RELENTLESS (Avengers fanfic)

Chapter 1

"Do you want to tell me what really happened?"

Natasha flicked her eyes up to meet Bruce's stern gaze. He was

holding her x-ray out in front of him, not looking pleased in the

slightest. It was just him in the lab, his assistant had taken the

afternoon off for personal reasons and that was the only reason

Natasha had actually come in to ask for the Doctor's help.

"I told you what happened." She said with a neutral expression and

he raised his eyebrows at her, clearly not believing her story.

"Yes, you told me one of the newer recruits managed to land a lucky

kick. A viable explanation, except it doesn't match up with your

injury." Bruce had that professional looking face, as though he was

not going to listen to any bullshit she gave him, but Natasha was

not wavering from her story.

"Yeah and it hurt like hell. Is there anything you can do?" She said,

keeping her eyes locked to his, if she looked away it would only

show she was lying. Even though he seemed to be fully aware of her

deceit.

"You have a hairline fracture that was made with a circular object."

Bruce said calmly. "My guess would be a metal pole of some

description. Certainly not from a kick."

"He was wearing steel capped boots." Natasha lied smoothly,

knowing that it would have fooled anybody else. She shifted ever so

slightly and ignored the pain that shot through her abdomen, not

even Bruce picked up any discomfort from her expression.

"The x-ray is very clear Natasha." He said, "It's a rounded object.

This is not the first time you have come in here with a story that

doesn't connect with an injury. I haven't said anything to anybody

because you asked me not to, which in itself is a sign that you are

trying to pull the wool over my eyes. But this is the worst one yet

and I'm starting to get worried about you."

That was the absolute last thing that she wanted to hear, the reason

she had not gone to one of the official SHIELD doctors or even

informed Fury about what was happening. She did not want

anybody's pity and she felt she did not deserve it. She had proven

herself time and time again but as soon as she started to make a

couple of mistakes, she was deemed to be worrisome. She slid off

the bed she had been sitting on and walked forward to take the x-

ray out of Bruce's hands.

"Thank you for your help Doctor." She said calmly and quickly

exited the lab, completely ignoring him as he called out her name

before the door slid shut after her. She rolled the x-ray up as she

walked through the corridor and kept it by her side so as not to get

any suspicious glances from the agents that passed her. Just as she

reached the quarters that she used while at the base, she heard a

familiar voice shout her name and she turned, waiting patiently as

Clint jogged towards her.

"Hey! Heard you were back." He said, greeting her with a smile, "I

also heard you did brilliantly. One more crime boss thrown in the

slammer! Fury should give you a medal or something, you've been

on a roll lately."

"All in a days work." She said, stealing the catch phrase that he

often used when someone complimented his work after a mission.

He laughed and noticed what she was holding in her hand.

"What's that?" He asked with a curious tone.

"Blueprints for my next run." She said casually, feeling guilty for

lying to Clint, but knowing that he would have no reason not to

believe her and would assume the details were confidential and

wouldn't press further.

"Jesus, you get straight back into it don't you." He chuckled,

dropping a hand on her shoulder. "You'll get some rest though

right? Before you go back out, seems like all you've been doing

lately is heading out on the deeper missions." She liked that he

wasn't openly showing his concern like Bruce had been, but he was

hinting gently that she should take it easy. He knew her well and he

was aware that the harder he urged her to slow down, then the

faster she would try and go.

"Yeah, don't worry, there's lots of planning before I head out on this

one." She said, giving the 'blueprints' a little shake. Another lie and

another wave of guilt. She was making a habit of falling into a

routine of deception. "I was actually hoping to get some sleep"

She hinted obviously to which he looked quite guilty himself.

"Oh right, sorry sorry, of course." He smiled and started to head off,

giving her a parting wave. "I'll see you after you've had your beauty

sleep. Not that you need it of course." He winked and disappeared

around the corner. Natasha let out a breath she hadn't realized she

had been holding in and quickly entered her quarters before anyone

else could stroll past and engage her in conversation.

She dropped the x-ray on her bed and made her way through the

tiny room into the bathroom, standing in front of the mirror with a

frown. She winced as she carefully rolled up her shirt to reveal a

purple bruise that was already starting to get that sickening yellow

tinge around the edges. It was very clearly a circular mark and she

cursed herself for not thinking of a better cover story to tell Bruce.

If only he knew how correct he had been.

She drew back upon the memory of the broken pole being slammed

into her ribs and almost flinched, even though she was in no actual

physical danger. She had made a drastic mistake that had entirely

blown her cover, but when completing the paperwork she had

altered the story slightly and managed to avoid admitting how badly

she had messed up. It wouldn't have been such a big deal, if it

hadn't been her third mission in a row that had included her making

a vital mistake that she had no excuse for.

"Get it together Romanoff." She growled at her reflection and stared

hard into her own eyes. She was certain that if she had to go to

Bruce one more time to ask for help, then he was going to void the

whole 'patient confidentiality' thing and just tell Fury what was

going on. Then she would be put through the blender, forced into

psyche exams and grilled for info, taken off missions for an

indefinite amount of time. She couldn't let that happen. Her work

was all she had and she made a decision to stop letting herself mess

up.

Luck had been her friend so far, but she had a feeling that would

only last so long. When all the cards were on the table and

everything had been drilled down, Natasha knew that the only thing

she could rely on was herself.

Chapter 2

Nightmares were not unfamiliar to Natasha, but they had become

more frequent, even though she was reluctant to admit that even to

herself. Often she would be plagued with general flashbacks, her

mind treating her to a replay of some of the more horrific moments

in her life. Sometimes when she was tired or stressed, her dreams

would be filled with memories that had been altered, outcomes

playing through the night that were considered the worst case

scenarios. Even though part of her always knew she was dreaming,

the vividness that her subconscious could create was truly

remarkable.

No one knew she was suffering from nightmares, though it was

probably just generally assumed that someone like her would have

a lot of terrible memories to relive. At least no one had ever

breached the topic with her, other than Clint and yet whatever

answer she would give him seemed to make him think she was

coping well. She was starting to wonder if there was something

wrong, something off and was the cause of why she had been

blundering around like a fool. She was a formidable asset, a valued

member of SHIELD and her training had been extensive, she should

absolutely not be making the mistakes that she had.

On one mission she had messed up with her accent of all things, as

though it had simply slipped her mind that she was portraying a

German that was supposed to have trouble speaking English. It had

taken just a few words that didn't even hold much meaning

themselves and the guns had been pointed in her direction with

startling speed. She couldn't believe she had made it out of that

one.

No one had a clue how much danger she had been in lately, except

Bruce of course but even he could only speculate, he didn't actually

have any idea about the particular situations. She realized that he

wasn't about to just give up on the beginning of his lecture, when

he showed up on her doorstep the next evening after the day that

she had gone to get an x-ray from him.

She was in the kitchen when she heard the knock on the front door,

her instincts suddenly sharpening and her hand automatically

moving to her hip, where her side arm was still seated in its holster.

She put the down the bowel of pasta and moved cautiously through

the lounge, her bare feet making no noise as they glided over the

thick carpet. Very few people knew where she lived and only on

very rare occasions did Natasha ever actually have visitors; she

wasn't exactly the type to host dinner parties every week.

Her slender fingers closed over the butt of her weapon as she stood

beside the door and took a look through the peep hole. Her body

relaxed when she saw it was Bruce and the prospect of possible

danger was forgotten, but a new tension arose when she realized he

wouldn't have come for a friendly chit chat.

Almost reluctantly, she opened the door enough to view him, but

not enough to suggest he was welcome to come inside.

"You should have called first." She said with a blank expression, "So

I could have told you not to bother coming round." He frowned at

her initial way of turning down his visit but squared his shoulders,

making it clear to her that he had come to be heard and that he

wasn't going to just give up and walk away.

"May I come in?" He asked, opting to remain polite even though she

was bordering on hostile.

It had taken a fair amount of courage to come to her flat and it had

taken almost the whole day to talk himself into actually growing the

balls to stop chickening out. She was a terrifying woman on the

surface and Bruce understood exactly why the Black Widow was as

feared as she was. But he had seen her in a different light on two

separate occasions. He had seen what lay underneath that harsh

exterior and it was something that was hard to forget.

When she had pulled the gun on him in India, she had been scared.

There was no way around that, no denying it, though he

had never had the stupidity to try and discuss that moment with

her, knowing that the encounter would definitely not go well. But on

the helicarrier, when the Other Guy had attacked her and she had

been saved by Thor, the expression on her face had been one

of terror. Bruce was used to people looking at him with fear, but she

had been downright shocked and it was that face that haunted his

nightmares.

He didn't know if she was aware of it, or if he was perhaps actually

imagining it, but just before Thor had stopped the Other Guy from

killing Natasha, he had hesitated. If he was remembering the

situation clearly, it was the look on her face that had actually

stopped Hulk's fist before it could flatten her. Only, he couldn't be

one hundred percent certain that the events had gone down that

way, while the Other Guy had control, Bruce felt like he was under a

fog and most the time he only received flashes of snippets of what

had happened. But her face for some reason he could recall that

expression vividly. He had a feeling that was why he felt a strange

need to protect her.

He knew that the others also wanted to protect Natasha, though of

course she would argue black and blue that she was not weak in the

slightest and needed no such protecting. But they all felt it. Steve

played the chivalry card, still not used to such strong women having

a integral role in the military, even though he had told Bruce about

Peggy. Bruce wondered if Steve saw a resemblance between Peggy

and Natasha, that could be the main reason Steve wanted to keep

her safe.

Clint had been her partner for years, they were good friends and

they trusted each other, that was obviously why he tried to protect

her. Bruce wasn't sure of their relationship, he was told once that

they used to be together, but had decided it just wouldn't work and

somehow they managed to stay friends through it all, which was

highly commendable really.

Thor didn't have much to do with the team, he would visit from

Asgard every now and then but he could never stay long because

apparently the Bifrost ,or whatever it was called, was still being

rebuilt and didn't hold much power. He mainly came to update them

on the Loki situation and of course, to spend some time with Jane.

But he would voice a concern or two about how dangerous

Natasha's job was. That was chivalry showing again, the whole

damsel in distress routine and it was clear that Natasha did not

appreciate it in the slightest.

Tony cared, though he would never admit it, Bruce was smart

enough to read between the lines and see past all the bullshit that

Tony spewed out. The two of them had become close, bonding over

science and the way that they were both basically shunned as

human beings. Tony would always be labelled as the egocentric

asshole and Bruce would always be the monster.

"May I come in?" Bruce repeated after she hadn't answered for a

minute. She seemed to be considering it on a level that should be

too deep for such a simple question. Everything she was doing lately

was telling him that there was something going on with her and he

was determined to get to the bottom of it.

"Does anybody know you are here?" She asked quietly and even

though there had been no malice in her tone, a chill ran up his

spine. That was the kind of thing the serial killers asked their

victims when they knocked on their doors right?

"Uh, no." He said simply, unsure which answer would have helped

his case better. At least if he was honest then she had no reason to

suspect treachery from him. After another few moments of her eyes

piercing into his soul, she stepped aside slightly and allowed him to

enter. He didn't know how he expected her flat to look, maybe some

weapons littered around, handcuffs and torture implements

scattered across the lounge. But he saw none of that, none of

anything really, it was all very plain and simple. Such an odd

contrast, a simple home for an immensely complicated woman.

"Do you want a drink or anything?" The question surprised him and

he turned to her, almost expecting her to suddenly announce she

was kidding, then manhandle him back out of the door. Even though

she clearly didn't want him there, she was still going to play the part

of a traditional host? He was really never going to figure this woman

out.

"Water would be good." He said quietly and she nodded, turning and

beckoning to him with her finger as she walked across the room.

"Kitchens this way."

He followed her like an obedient puppy, his head still turning as he

tried to view his surroundings but with not much to see there was

no point. There wasn't even any photographs or personal effects out

in the open and with a slight pang of sadness Bruce realized why.

She was a spy through and through, she may have been part of

SHIELD, but she most likely still expected to be turned on at any

point and would never leave and clues around her house that could

be used to trace her if she suddenly had to disappear. He was

willing to bet that weapons were hidden all through the house, along

with pre-packed bags that she could simply grab if she had to make

a run for it.

The kitchen was smaller than would be expected of a flat that size,

not that the actual flat was very large, but of course she was the

only one living there and didn't need much room. He watched her

take a glass and pull a jug of ice water from the fridge, filling it

almost to the brim before handing it to him.

She picked up a bowel from the bench and took a bite of the pasta

inside, causing Bruce to feel bad that he had interrupted her during

dinner time. Not that it was really much of a meal.

"I think you need to talk to someone." He said, knowing she would

wait for him to speak and he needed to say something before it got

any more awkward. She didn't react, didn't yell at him or demand

he leave at once and for a split second, Bruce swore he saw

something in her eyes that was almost close to emotion. But it was

gone too fast for him to make much note of it.

"Do you." She said rhetorically as she took another bite of her food.

"I'm assuming you don't mean someone like Barton. Or Fury." Bruce

took a sip of the water and refused to look away from her piercing

gaze.

"No, I don't." He said, setting the glass down on the bench. "I think,

I think you need to talk to a professional." Before she could say

anything else he figured he may as well defend his suggestion

before she shut down on his completely. "Look Natasha, I just think

it would be a good idea to talk to someone who knows what they're

doing, someone who can help you. I'm not trying to call you crazy, I

don't think you're losing it. I'm just worried about you." He said

the last part quietly, knowing it was those words that had caused

her to hurry from his lab the previous day. But she surprised him

again and didn't react in any sort of hostile manner.

"I'm fine." She said calmly, finishing the pasta and putting the

bowel in the sink. "Sometimes people get injured on missions. It

just happens."

"So you are admitting that the injuries occurred on the missions?"

Bruce said suddenly and he saw her freeze as she reached for the

tap. Her shoulders slumped ever so slightly and he couldn't see her

face but he dam well knew she would be frowning.

"Yes, alright fine Doctor. You were right." She said, turning the tap

on and rinsing her bowel more thoroughly than was probably

needed. "I received those injuries the way you thought I did. I

shouldn't have lied. I'm sorry."

Bruce was stunned and glad she was turned away, considering he

was having trouble rehinging his jaw that had almost dropped to the

floor. As far as apologies went, he had never been on the receiving

end of one from Natasha Romanoff. He didn't speak for a moment

and neither did she, but he was aware that the silence was anything

other awkward.

Without really considering the repercussions of his actions, he

stepped forward and dropped a hand on her shoulder, feeling her

flinch ever so slightly, but he ignored it. "I just don't want you to

get hurt Natasha. Even the strongest of us can make fatal

mistakes." Shockingly, she didn't pull her gun on him, she didn't try

and break his arm off, she didn't even try to move away. She just

turned to him with that all too familiar look in her eyes and Bruce

sighed inwardly, he recognized the fear that she was projecting.

But very quickly, he realized that the fear was not toward him, no,

she was definitely showing fear, but in reference to something else.

Being this close, as close as they had ever been apart from

moments when he was medically examining her, was an unusual

experience for Bruce. He could see every detail of her face and her

stunning eyes, he could see the vibrant colour of her hair, which had

grown so much longer in the time since he had first met her. He

could smell her scent, a strange mix of vanilla and something else,

something that made him almost hungry.

With a start, he realized that it wasn't him that was thinking that, it

was the Other Guy, he was struggling to get through and for some

inexplicable reason, Bruce thought it was Natasha's scent that was

drawing him to the surface. He need to end the shockingly intimate

moment that they were sharing, it didn't appear to be going in a

direction that would end well with anybody.

"Look, just take it easy on the missions for awhile okay?" Bruce said

almost casually as he felt an animal starting to make itself known

inside his head. He gave her shoulder a light squeeze, trying to

make it a reassuring gesture, as if to say something like 'Yeah, I'm

here for whenever you need anything'. "I should head back to the

tower, Tony gets creative if I'm not there to reign him in and who

knows what screwed up invention he'll think of without me there to

keep him in check." He gave her a smile and quickly moved back

through her lounge, showing himself out. No doubt he would be

leaving her confused and shocked, but that was better than bloodied

and beaten.

He made it to the car he had borrowed from Tony and slid inside,

his hands automatically clutching at his head as a deafening voice

echoed throughout his mind. After a few minutes of calming himself

down by sheer force of will, he placed his shaking hands on the

wheel and started the car, careful to stay inside the speed limit as

he made his way back to Stark tower. It terrified him how easily he

had almost just lost total control, brought on by the scent of the

beautiful woman that he was so desperate to protect.

"Banner what have you gotten yourself into?" He muttered under

his breath, not even realizing that he had already driven through

two red lights. His mind was focused elsewhere and so was the mind

of the beast that resided inside.

Chapter 3

Bruce can simply not believe it's finally happening, a quiet dream

that came to him at certain times when he wished it wouldn't, but it

was finally real. And it was glorious.

He was hardly aware of the softness of the mattress under his back,

or the vibrant morning sun that streamed through the windows and

illuminated the entire room. All his focus was on the beautiful

woman straddling him and riding him with as much ferocity as he

always imagined she would. Natasha's back arched she tilted her

face to the roof, moaning in delicious ecstasy, a clear sign that her

body was enjoying the moment as much as his was. His hands held

her hips, guiding them with forceful motions as he pumped his own

hips and slammed his length inside her, deeper and deeper every

time.

Her hands were splayed on his chest, fingernails digging in to create

half moon imprints of a slight pink, not breaking the surface and yet

she was still managed to gain leverage in that way. Bruce's eyes

were wide as he watched her writhe and moan on top of him, her

naked body glistening with sweat and her chest flushed with the

pleasure that he was sending through her body. It was the most

beautiful feeling imaginable, to have a moaning Natasha Romanoff

encasing his length with a tight heat that almost made his eyes roll

into the back of his skull.

There was nothing that could compare to this.

"Bruce" She moaned and he made a grunting noise, his name had

never been spoken with such a delicious sound to it. "BruceI need,

I need."

He sat up and wrapped his arms around her, hands grabbing at her

ass to continue to rough thrusting, increasing his pace and gaining

every reaction from her that he was seeking.

"What do you need." He growled, thoroughly enjoying how much he

was causing her to come undone, it was an honour to see her in

such a state and he in reverence. His mouth moved to one of her

breasts and his lips closed over her nipple, sucking and nibbling in a

way that caused her to shriek with delight. "What do you need

Natasha, tell me."

"I need, I need I need you not to kill me."

Bruce snapped his head back and felt her go limp in his arms, her

head lolling to the side as a trail of blood trickled from the corner of

her mouth and trailed lazily down her jaw. He stared into her eyes

with horror, noting how blank and lifeless they looked, open and

gazing at him without being able to actually see him.

"N-Natasha!" he gasped, feeling how cold her body was, her lips a

subtle shade of blue. With their chests pressed tightly together, he

became very aware that there was no heartbeat originating within

hers.

She seemed to have shrunk so much, dwarfed by the size of his

monstrous arms around her, her skin such a contrasted color to the

sickening green of his.

"Nooooo!"

His strangled cry echoed around the lab even as he was yanked

from his taunting dream, his eyes opening but taking a long time to

understand that the face in front of him belonged to Tony, concern

showing in the billionaires expression.

"Whoa, Banner take it easy!" Tony exclaimed as Bruce reflexitively

tried to fight against the hands shaking his shoulders. "Hey, shit,

look at me, just a dream! It was just a dream!"

Bruce blinked in wild confusion and looked around at the well lit lab,

ceasing to try and swat Tony away. His heart was racing and he

swallowed, evening his breathing in a thoroughly practiced way,

ensuring no incidents were about to occur.

"Just a dream?" his gaze fell back to Tony who nodded,

understanding that Bruce was in a state that required certain

reassurance.

"Yeah Bruce, just a dream. Or probably a nightmare, judging by the

agonizing sounds you were making before I managed to wake you

up."

His body started to calm down and he let out a shaky breath as

Tony removed his hands, taking a step backwards but keeping the

concerned expression. "You want to tell me what that was all

about?" He asked, dropping into the other chair beside Bruce's work

bench.

Bruce ran a hand through his unruly hair and noted how much he

was shaking. He closed his eyes and took a few more deep breaths

before returning his gaze to Tony.

"Just a bad dream." He murmured, knowing that his friend wouldn't

press the issue if he clearly didn't want to discuss it.

"Thought you were going to Hulk out on me." Tony said, honesty

shinning in his eyes. "The grunts you were making seemed to be a

clear sign that you were about to tear up my lab.

Bruce forced a shaky laugh and leaned back in the chair that he had

fallen asleep in. "Yeah, I'm good now though." He said, putting an

effort into trying to convince the both of them that he would be

okay. Tony didn't say anything, but it was abundantly clear that he

didn't believe Bruce in the slightest.

"You sure you're up for this one Romanoff?" Fury asked, raising his

eyebrow at her. "You've been pushing yourself hard lately, if anyone

deserves some time off, it would be you."

"I'm good sir." Natasha said calmly, giving him a curt nod. "This is

one I've been waiting for. I need to be on this mission."

Fury didn't speak for a moment, giving her that studying look that

she always detested. It was clear he was second guessing his

decision to offer her the mission but she knew if she spoke then it

would not help her case, she needed to let him make his own

evaluation of her competency. He handed her the folder in his grasp

and she took it while managing to hide her sigh of relief.

"This in an important one Romanoff." He said calmly. "There isn't

many I would trust this run to."

"I understand sir." She said as he released his hold on the

information packet. "I won't let you down."

"See that you don't." With that, he turned and exited through the

main door, leaving her alone in the briefing room. She dropped into

the seat closest to her and opened the file, spreading the

documents across the table so she could study them. It had been a

almost a year since she last encountered Michael Patrons, before

that they had crossed paths a few times and unfortunately she had

actually run hits with him. He was a devastating assassin, even able

to make her skills and talents seem like merciful gestures.

He was ruthless and sadistic, his work gave him pleasure and he

enjoyed every moment of it. The power of taking a life and seeing

the light die in their eyes was something that seemed to comfort

him. Natasha was only too happy to be the one that would finally

bring him down.

As she viewed the images of various camera feeds, her mind was

drawn back to her confusing encounter with Bruce the night before.

He had left her standing in the kitchen under a state of confusion.

She had come so very close, almost revealing her troubles and

confiding in him of her constant nightmares. She had almost been

able to ease her burden and allow herself to release the pressure of

her distressed mind.

But he had left so suddenly and her tender moment had

evaporated, causing her to chastise herself for showing such

shocking weakness. Her latest mission was just the thing she

needed to reaffirm her own strength and she almost smiled at the

knowledge that such a twisted action was going to make her feel

better.

Was she any different from Michael after all?

It had been almost 24 hours since Fury had cleared her plans for

the mission and she had not been in contact with base since then.

24 hours in which she had easily managed to track down her target

and proven her skills in reconnaissance. She'd barely had to put any

effort into the trace and it was only at that 24 hour mark that she

realized why her task had been so startlingly easy to complete.

He had known she was coming. He had been ready for her.

Her luck had officially run out.

"You know, I think I've actually missed you Natasha." The voice

rang out through the darkened room and roused Natasha from the

light doze that her mind had mercifully allowed. As she was brought

back into the real world, the ache from her shoulders announced its

presence again and she couldn't even believe she had managed to

fall asleep. As the scent of chloroform reached her nostrils, she

understood it had not been of her own accord. She coughed slightly,

licking her dry, cracked lips and noting the harsh flavour of the

chemical that still lingered, no doubt a rag had been placed over her

mouth before she had succumbed to the forced slumber.

She blinked wearily and looked around, unable to turn her head

very far and there was not much to be observed anyway, the room

had no light source and she could barely see a foot in front of her.

Her wrists were sore from such tight bonds and her feet were

throbbing, she couldn't tell how long she had been tied up that way,

her arms stretched high above her head with her legs dangling

uselessly above the floor.

Footsteps approached her from behind and she felt the very tip of a

sharpened blade press into her back, just to the left of her spine.

She didn't move in the slightest, not even the barest hint of a flinch

as heated breath touched the back of her neck and the knife

travelled slowly upwards, slicing through the material of her shirt

with very little effort.

She couldn't remember her jacket being removed, her mind was still

hazy from the drug and she glanced down to see she still wore her

pants, internally thankful for such a thing. She knew how Michael

would often treat his female victims before he disposed of them.

The man was a monster and she was completely at his mercy.

"Have you missed me too Natasha?" Michael whispered in her ear,

his voice so very gentle and more terrifying than if he had been

yelling at her.

"Oh definitely." Natasha muttered dryly, swallowing as she felt how

dry and scratchy her throat was. How much chloroform had she

actually inhaled?

"You were always such a good liar." Michael moved around into her

line of vision, the point of the knife sliding gently around her waist

to rest at her stomach, never leaving her body. "But you aren't even

going to put in the effort to convince me?"

She said nothing, his games were a prize to him and she was not

going to take part in them.

He smirked at the resolute expression on her face and the fire in her

eyes. The knife came up and with his free hand he grasped her jaw,

pressing his thumb painfully into her cheek so her mouth was forced

to open.

"If you aren't even going to speak, then what use is your tongue?"

He cooed, bringing the knife to her mouth even as she tried to

pointlessly yank her head from his grip. The blade rested on her

tongue and she refused to wince as she felt the stinging sensation

and a tiny drop of blood was released. "Shall I slice it in half

Natasha?"

"I'd rather you didn't." She managed to say, the words coming out

muffled and altered considering she had to speak in a way that

didn't cause her tongue to take further damage from the knife.

He smiled triumphantly and removed the knife, purposely letting it

trail over the edge of her bottom lip and she felt a trickle of blood

start to form and run down the side of her jaw.

"We both know you'll never get any information from me." She

stated almost matter-of-factly. "There's nothing you can do that will

give you the info you want."

His eyebrows raised ever so slightly and his smile became more

malicious. "There you go, jumping to conclusions." He laughed

quietly and took a step back, ensuring she was barely able to see

him through the darkness and she had to squint to make out his

features. "You assume that I am actually wanting intel. But you are

right about not getting it from you. I'm well aware that you can stay

silent through whatever I could do to you."

"So why this whole charade then." She said, trying to move her

shoulders to ease the painful aching, but not having much luck and

the binds on her ankles remained just as tight, not matter the

subtle movements of her feet as she tried to free herself. "I won't

give you info, if you release me you know I'll kill you without

hesitation. Why haven't you just killed me?"

"That would be no fun." He said, taking a step forward and she

realized he was holding a strip of material. For a moment she

thought she was about to be drugged again, but then he moved

faster than she anticipated and had wrapped the material tightly

around her mouth, trying it in a knot at the back of her head. He

didn't bother trying to move her hair out of the way to do so and

she could fell portions of it caught up in the knot, pulling at her

scalp painfully. Her lips curled over the edges of her gag and she

knew that it wasn't exactly about silencing her, because if she was

going to scream then it wouldn't provide much silence against that.

And also, he knew she wouldn't be screaming due to anything he

could do to her.

"First you want me to speak and now you gag me?" Her worlds were

barely understandable, but he would have got the gist and he just

laughed as she tried to move her mouth to stop the way the

material pulled tightly against her cheeks. The purpose of the gag

was to degrade her, to show her that her words and voice were not

worth anything.

She knew what was coming next and her previous relief fizzled

away as she watched him unbuckle him pants. Instantly she closed

her eyes and pushed her mind away from her body. She was sitting

in her lounge, flicking through the channels of the TV, bored and

wondering why she even bothered when there was nothing on

anyway.

A sharp back hand to her face snapped her back to reality and she

saw anger in Michaels eyes for the first time. "I know your tricks

Natasha, your ways to escape pain. I won't let you do it now." He

grabbed her jeans and yanked them roughly down her hips, unable

to take them all the way off due to the way her ankles were bound

together. Her eyes closed again and she turned the volume of the

TV up louder, changing over to a documentary about imploding

buildings.

Another flash of pain across her face and this time she knew it was

from a closed fist. She blinked as her eyes watered by pure reflex

and nothing else. The blow had been harsh but definitely not

enough to knock her unconscious, Michael was far too smart for

that. Her eyes focused on his for just a second and she saw the

absolute hunger in them, that ruthless glint of a madman about to

devour his victim.

A documentary about controlled implosions was not going to cut it.

His hands grabbed her knees and forced them apart with a rough

motion and she closed her eyes again just as she felt him tear away

her underwear. Her body seized with the pain of him brutally

slamming himself inside of her but she proudly let no noise utter

from her throat. She was well aware than any sort of agonizing

sound from her would only increase his drive. He needed to cause

pain to get his kicks, he was a true sadist.

She linked the fingers of her hands and dug into her own palms with

her fingernails, only able to create a tiny amount of pain that could

draw the focus away from what he was doing to her. It wasn't

enough.

She tried to pull her mind away again, running through old missions

where she had been injured and drew attention to the pain she

could remember from those times. A bullet wound, a kick to the

face, anything that her mind could grasp.

She choked out a spluttered gasp as her she felt the knife slice into

her right thigh, not deep enough to cause any muscle damage, but

enough to allow a steady stream of blood to flow out down her leg.

"Stay..with me Natasha." Michael growled between thrusts, his

voice nothing short of menacing.

Her reaction to the knife wound egged him on and the pace of his

hips increased, bringing more pain to her lower body. She turned

her head away and opened her eyes, desperately searching the

room to find some detail to focus on. But he had been crafty from

the start and he had ensured the room was in complete darkness for

that reason specifically. With her vision dulled, her other senses had

to become sharper.

She could hear every ragged breath he made, every lust filled grunt

and moan as he degraded her while she was defenceless. She could

smell the sweat accumulating on his body and the scent of sex in

the air. But worse than that, she could feel everything with

unbearable clarity. Every time she closed her eyes to try and pull

away from her hell, he would wield the knife, slicing along her neck

or arm, or leg. Never enough to cause enough pain that would take

her focus from the rape.

"That lookspainful.." He grunted, his hand touching the vibrant

bruise on her abdomen. She snapped her teeth together audibly as

he punched her in the gut and she felt the mild fracture of her rib

change to a full break. She coughed and gasped, but quickly

reverted to her silence.

He needed her to scream and she would not allow that to happen.

She knew her torment was only lasting so long because she was

denying him in his effort to extract noises of agony from her. Her

resilience was her undoing.

Chapter 4

"Hey Clint, have you heard from Natasha recently?" Bruce tried to

phrase the question casually, there was no real reason for him to be

worried, but he still couldn't shake his growing concern.

Clint pulled his head out of the fridge, showing Bruce that he had a

mouthful of cold pizza that prevented him from answering the

question. He chewed slowly and swallowed, picking up another piece

as he kicked the fridge door shut and stepped over to the bench,

dropping his food on a plate he had grabbed just before.

"She's out on a hit." He managed to say when his mouth was finally

empty, though he took another bite from the other piece almost

straight away. "Dunno when she's due back."

"How long do these hits normally take?" Bruce asked, again he

tried to sound rather indifferent.

"Depends on the target." Clint said with a shrug, coughing as he

started to choke on the amount of food he was trying to consume.

Tony waltzed in behind him and thumped him on the back, perhaps

harder than would have been necessary.

"Why the hell do I keep finding you in my kitchen Barton?" Tony

asked, seeming not to actually care that much, despite his words.

"Because you always have food." Clint explained, his eyes watering

a little.

"Don't you and Natasha usually go on missions together?" Bruce

asked. It was one question to many and Clint's eyes narrowed as he

turned toward Bruce.

"Why the interrogation Doctor?" He asked calmly, calm enough to

suggest he was suddenly suspicious. Tony made a point of staying

silent and that in itself was a monumental sign that something was

up. Tony could never keep out of conversations, his mouth was

forever leading him into trouble and Clint was glancing between

Tony and Bruce with increased annoyance. "Someone tell me what

is going on." He said, putting the food down. The situation became

instantly serious.

"You have to tell him." Tony said without looking away from the

coffee he was making.

"I wasn't even supposed to tell you." Bruce pointed out, shifting

uncomfortably under Clint's gaze.

"Come on guys, you are starting to worry me now." The joking and

sarcasm had disappeared, Bruce knew he would have to reveal the

secret he had been trying his best to hide. He opened and closed his

mouth a few times, even though he had already told Tony, he felt

like he would be betraying Natasha by letting Clint know.

"Tash is injured." Tony said almost casually, when it became clear

that Bruce was having trouble mustering the courage to spit it out.

"Wait, what do you mean injured?" Clint asked confused, "She

wouldn't be allowed to go out on a hit if she was injured, she would

have to declare it."

"She has been hiding her injuries." Bruce said, clearing his throat

but speaking with more assurance. It was all going to have to come

out eventually and Clint was going to be pissed whenever he finally

heard about her deception.

"Injuries? As in plural? How?" He demanded, looking between the

other two, waiting impatiently for answers. Bruce sighed, Natasha

was going to skin him alive when she found out he hadn't been able

to keep her secret, she was never going to trust him again.

Just as Bruce was about to explain further, a ringing sounded from

Clint's pocket and he pulled his cell phone out, his face visibly

relaxing as he saw the identity of the caller.

"It's Tash." He said and flipped it open, turning to walk from the

kitchen. "You are in serious trouble! What's this I hear about you

being injured! When you get back I'm going to-" He stopped walking

as he reached the kitchen doorway and just stood there, his entire

body growing shockingly rigid. Both Tony and Bruce took a step

forward, obviously something was seriously wrong. The two

scientists exchanged a glance but said nothing.

"Listen you fucking bastard! If you fucking lay one finger on her-"

Clint's voice was full of a terrifying rage, malice dripping from every

single word.

Panic flared within Bruce's chest and his eyes widened as Clint

continued to rage.

"You fucking prick, I will find you and fucking end you! Do you hear

me!" Without warning, Clint threw his phone across the kitchen and

it smashed into pieces as it connected with the wall. Even Tony

neglected to make any sort of sarcastic remark. Neither of them had

seen Clint lose it in such a way, even after his mind had been toyed

with by Loki, he had been calm and collected. The situation must be

deadly serious to call for such a drastic reaction from the normally

composed archer.

He took a deep breath and turned toward the other two, shaking as

he ran a hand through his hair.

"Tash has been jumped." He said, obviously thinking that he had

just explained everything to a satisfying degree.

"What do you mean jumped?" Bruce asked confused. His panic was

rising as was his worry for Natasha. An ache began to form at the

back of his head but he tried his hardest to push it away, needing to

focus on the current situation.

"What do you think it fucking means!" Clint yelled, his fists balling.

"Some fucking twisted fuck, has her in his fucking grasp!"

"While your vocabulary is shockingly impressive, I'm going to have

to ask you to calm down." Tony said, holding out his hands in a

defensive motion, not surprised in the slightest as Clint rounded

toward him with fire in his eyes. "You have every right to be so

angry Barton, but losing your head will not help get her back."

Even as Tony spoke, Bruce was having trouble keeping a handle on

his own sanity. A gruff voice was causing havoc with his mind and it

was getting harder and harder to drown it out.

Ironically the only logical one left in the room, Tony was for once,

the voice of reason. "We need to figure out who has her, where she

is and how much danger she is in." The billionaire said and lifted his

head toward the ceiling. "JARVIS, can you trace the call that Clint

just received to his cell phone?"

"I'm afraid the duration was not long enough to provide an accurate

trace." The computer informed the group. Tony snapped his fingers

and pointed toward the kitchen door.

"Gentleman, if you please, my lab awaits." He said calmly. Clint

stalked from the room, too enraged to notice the way Bruce was

turning a slight shade of green. Tony was fully aware and he was in

front of Bruce in a flash, his hands gripping his shoulders.

"Hey, look at me sunshine." He said with a commanding tone. Bruce

tried to focus on Tony, but the roaring in his head was unbearable.

"Tony- Natasha- she- need-" Bruce shook his head, unable to form

structured sentences, his voice was gruff and far deeper than

normal.

"Not ganna lie Bruce, it seems like she's in the shit." Tony said,

somehow still remaining completely calm, even as Bruce's eyes

started to switch their coloring to green. "But right now she doesn't

need Hulk, she needs Bruce. She needs that genius scientist to help

track her down."

That seemed to stop the changing, logic managing to pierce the

thick fog that was swirling around Bruce's mind and he gulped in

air, desperately trying to override the anger that was shifting inside

him. After a tense moment, he nodded at Tony, still shaking but

obviously having a hold on the advancement of the Other Guy.

"I need her to be okay Tony." Bruce said quietly and Tony nodded,

giving him an understanding look as he led him from the kitchen.

"I know." Tony said with a roll of his eyes, "You talk in your sleep.

It's really hard to concentrate on the propulsion systems of my suit

when you're across the other side of the lab, moaning her name."

Bruce paled dramatically but Tony smirked a little, the whitened

shade was better than the green one that had been there only

moments ago.

Natasha was awoken with a vicious kick to her abdomen and the

very first thing she noticed was the overpowering scent of

chloroform, yet again. She had no concept of time, with the amount

of occasions when the rag had been pressed over her mouth until

she lost consciousness, she had no way to accurate track how long

she had been there. It was still as dark as ever, except there was a

small light source very close to her, illuminating Michael's grinning

face.

As her eyes managed to focus again, she realized that he was

holding a small device and it took just another short moment for her

to understand it was her phone.

Her phone.

That, was a embarrassingly rookie mistake. From the look on his

face, her expression had changed to horror at the concept of how

she had managed to fuck up beyond belief. Not even the stupidest

assassin would ever take their personal cell on a mission, for the

very reason of getting caught. The numbers were not listed under

names, if he called anybody, he would have no idea who he was

talking to, but that was hardly the point.

She felt a wave of shame before another kick to her ribs caused her

cough and spit blood. She had been lying on the ground ever since

he had finished using her body for about the third time, though she

had no way of knowing if he had used it other times, while she was

unconscious. Her entire body ached with unrelenting agony, but the

most drastic reaction he had gained from her was a sickening

moment where she had almost vomited.

Though her body had been desperate to expel it, powerful nausea

brought on by the chloroform, she had managed to keep it down.

Logic dictated that he would probably shove her face in it, she could

not allow her pride and dignity to be degraded even further.

"I talked to your boyfriend, he seems concerned." His voice sounded

far off and Natasha had to fight to stay awake, a process which was

becoming more and more difficult.

"Oh really?" She murmured, her mouth was so dry and painful, her

tongue felt like sandpaper. "How's he doing." She had no idea who

he was even talking about, most of the contacts in her phone were

male and it could have been anyone.

"He seemed to be pretty anxious to get you back." Michael chuckled

darkly, the sound echoing around the room. "The amount of

swearing was almost entertaining."

Probably would have been Clint.

"Yeah He does that." She coughed. "He's very caring."

"Perhaps I'll pay him a visit after I'm finished with you." Michael

sneered but Natasha just laughed, her body shaking painfully with

the effort. Somehow she managed to roll onto her back, he didn't

make a grab for her or anything, well aware that she was tied too

securely to actually get away.

"Really?" She chuckled, the noise sounded disgusting with the

amount of blood in her throat. She had to swallow a good portion of

it to keep talking. "That's what you're going with? 'Perhaps I'll pay

him a visit'. Do you have any idea who you are talking to?" Her

laughter was agonizing, but the way she was sneering at him

brought up an anger from her captor that made the pain worth it.

Until that anger led him to kick her in the gut again. More blood was

coughed up and when she tried to suck in a breath, a sharp pain

shot across her chest.

"I have to give you credit Natasha." Michael said, kneeling beside

her face, the sudden rage subsiding. "I thought it would be easier

than this to break you."

"A lot of people think that you should know better."

"Yes and I bet most people have a lot of fun trying to break you."

He spoke sweetly, his voice sounded distant. Natasha blinked and

forced herself to remain conscious by sheer force of will.

"I have even more fun... breaking them-" She had to cut off, her

body seizing as she coughed again. She didn't bother to spit out the

blood, just turned her head to the side and let it dribble from her

mouth. It may have been undignified, but she was getting to that

point where it was becoming hard to care. "They'll come for you."

She murmured, her eyes meeting his, though she had to squint to

see him.

"Let's play a game." Michael said suddenly and scrolled through her

phone, adorning a thoughtful expression. "I'm going to call a

random number and you get to say hello."

She didn't understand what game he had started to play, but her

mind had lost its sharpness anyway, for all she knew it could have

been normal procedure under torture. He held the phone up to her

ear and she heard the ringing tone for a moment before a hesitant

voice answered.

"Natasha?"

"Bruce!" Natasha chuckled, very aware that she would have

sounded as though inebriated. She would place that down to the

amount of chloroform in her system, not to mention the chemicals

of euphoria that her mind was releasing to try and ease the pain in

her body.

"Natasha where are you! Are you okay? Tell us where you are! Get

off me! Get off!"

She blinked in confusion then realized that whoever was with Bruce

was trying to take the phone from him. She could hear Clint

swearing and Tony yelling in the background.

"Guys" She moaned, a wave of dizziness coming over her. "Can

you not argue while-" Michael stomped his foot down on her chest

and all the air in her lungs was forced out.

He pulled the phone away as she groaned and rolled onto her side,

curling into a ball as much as she could.

"Who am I speaking with?" Michael said calmly into the phone. "It is

a very simple question, either you answer it, or I will cause Natasha

more pain."

Evidently he was no given an answer, as his foot connected with her

side and she cringed, but remained silent.

"The problem with this exchange is that she will make no noise if I

kick her, so you cannot be sure if I am making good on my threats."

Michael was definitely enjoying his new game, he seemed to be

filled with glee as he picked up the knife from beside him, stained

with her blood from the time that she had been with him.

He held the phone back to her ear and she was shocked at the

vulgar swearing that was coming through, recognizing Bruce's voice

instantly. Never had she heard his vocabulary sound so colourful.

"Bruce? It's me." She muttered weakly and abruptly the obscenities

stopped. "Look, I don't think I'm getting out of this one so-"

"Oops time to go." Michael took the phone back and ended the call,

checking his watch as he did so. Clearly he had planned to stay just

under the mark of when the call could have been traced to a specific

area.

"Who is this Bruce fellow?" He asked, almost sounding curious.

"Bruce Banner." She coughed and grinned up at him, unaware of

the blood that covered her teeth and lips, still trickling down the

side of his face. There was no recognition in the assassin's eyes, he

had never heard of the scientist who housed the legendary Hulk.

"Dumbass." She chuckled, absolutely no humour was detectable in

the sound.

She was not surprised when pain exploded across the side of her

head and she saw a serious of twinkling lights dancing across her

vision. She had been knocked out enough times recently to

understand her consciousness was slipping away. But even as she

felt the darkness take her back into its familiar embrace, she let

herself chuckle again, knowing how furious it would make Michael.

She didn't feel the extra blow to her head, unaware that he used

her very own cell phone to administer it, she had already faded to a

point where the pain would no longer be a factor. Until the time

when she would awake again.

Chapter 5

Tony walked aimlessly around his lab, or at least what was left of it.

Every now and then he would stoop down and pick up a device,

realizing almost instantly that it had been rendered completely

useless. He sighed audibly as JARVIS unnecessarily reminded him of

the level of the carnage.

"Sir, I'm afraid it will have to be entirely rebuilt. Almost all of the lab

was demolished during the incident." Tony resisted the urge to roll

his eyes at the blindingly obvious point made by his AI.

"Yes thank you for that observation." He muttered, idly kicking at

one of the buckled metal benches.

"Tony, I am so sorry." The engineer turned to see Bruce

approaching from the doorway, stepping cautiously over the mess of

shattered glass and broken metal framing. He looked stunningly

apologetic and his face was contorted with sadness. Tony had every

right to be livid with rage, but for some reason he just couldn't bring

himself to be angry.

"It's alright Bruce. Nobody was hurt and that is the main thing." He

knew that Bruce would already be feeling guilty enough, he didn't

need an unnecessary lecture from Tony and Fury was probably

going to be giving him a colourful one anyway.

"But everything is destroyed" Bruce glanced around at the

damage, visibly cringing at the chaos that he had caused single

handedly.

"Things Doc. Just material things. Everything can be fixed,

everything can be remade." Despite everything, Tony allowed a tiny

smirk to cross his lips. "The look on Barton's face almost made it all

worth it."

"He's pretty pissed huh?" Bruce asked quietly, taking a few more

steps into the lab.

"Yuh huh." Tony continued to smirk for a moment but it slid off his

face and he became more serious. "Can't really blame him though,

the moment you Hulked out, it was abundantly clear that you have

some serious feelings for Tash."

"I don't-" Bruce started to say, but Tony just raised his eyebrows

and Bruce sighed dramatically. "Maybe. Just a little. Okay fine I do.

That creep on the phone I just All I could think about was finding

him and slitting his throat. For once the Other Guy and I managed

to agree on something and before I knew it, he was trying to come

out. He wants her back as much as I do. Maybe even more."

"Well that's admirable." Tony said with an understanding nod. "I

mean, we all want to get her back, Tasha is part of our team and

let's face it, without her in the mix, we all just seem a little gay." He

hadn't expected it, but the feeble joke actually caused Bruce to

chuckle weakly.

"You have a point." He muttered, a hint of a smile forming. "She's

certainly a beautiful woman."

"Oh anybody in their right mind can see that." Tony grinned wildly

but the seriousness returned almost instantly. "Listen Bruce,

Natasha is one tough cookie. She's been through an absolute

fuckload of shit and she'll be able to handle just a little bit more.

She'll be okay."

Bruce looked as though he didn't believe him, but managed a nod.

"Yeah."

A ringing sounded from somewhere in the rubble and both men

launched forward to try and locate the source.

"Figures." Tony sighed as he pulled out Bruce's cell phone from

under a pile of metal and glass, "You trash my lab and

break everything apart from your cell." The screen was cracked but

he could still see Natasha's name across the centre. "Shit! JARVIS

run a trace NOW!"

He pressed the button to answer the call even while trying to swat

away Bruce. "Hello? Tash? Hello?" There was nothing but silence on

the other end for a few seconds before a male spoke up.

"I've had my fun, you can have what's left of her."

Tony expected the call to be ended as he felt a chill run down his

spine but the silence remained, void of a dial tone that would have

suggested the caller hung up. He glanced at Bruce, confusion

showing in both their expressions. After almost a minute JARVIS

was the one to break the quiet tone of the lab.

"The trace has been completed sir. I cannot display the location on

any of the screens other than the cell phone that you are holding, if

you end the call I can show you the address."

Tony complied and swore when he saw the information JARVIS had

relayed to Bruce's cell.

"What's going on?" Bruce demanded, but Tony was already running

past him and ordering JARVIS to open the doors of the alcoves that

his suits were stored in. Thankfully they had remained undamaged

and it was nothing short of a miracle.

"Get Clint right now!" Tony ordered as he stepped into place so his

suit could be built around him. "Do not argue with me Bruce! NOW!"

It wasn't often that Tony tried to order Bruce around and as

desperate as he was for answers, it was clear the situation was at a

point where demanding them would be fruitless. He sprinted back

up the stairs in search of Clint, managing to convince him that he

needed to get down to Tony's lab straight away.

The two of them raced back down, urgency fuelling their footsteps

and before any words could even be exchanged, Tony had grabbed

Clint by his shoulders and flown through the side of the building,

which already bore a gaping hole from when Bruce had lost control.

Speechless and stumped, Bruce just stared in confusion for a

moment before stepping forward and picking up his phone which

Tony had dropped. He wasn't much of a swearer, but when he saw

that the location of the call had been traced to Natasha's flat, he let

loose a string of words that would have made Tony proud.

They landed unsteadily and Clint stumbled forward with a complete

lack of dignity, nausea rolling through him. Tony had briefly

explained the situation as they flew, ignoring Clint's claims that he

was going to hurl. Even with the dizziness pulsing through him, Clint

was already trying to run up the path to Natasha's flat, his

movements haphazard for just a moment before he got the hang of

walking again. The front door had clearly been smashed in, it hung

on just one hinge, sending a foreboding feeling through both the

men as they rushed forward.

Clint was first through the doorway but he stopped dead when he

saw the body bag that had been dumped in the centre of the

lounge. It had been thrown down with force, judging by the way

that the small coffee table lay splintered and broken underneath it.

He approached with shaky steps and sank to his knees, fully aware

that there was no movement coming from within the bag. Grief

washed over him in a powerful wave and he dropped his head in his

hands as his shoulder slumped.

"We're too late" He choked out, his expression contorted with

pain.

"No." Tony's voice rung out clearly as he slid the face plate back and

moved toward the bag, grasping the thick material with both hands.

"JARVIS picked up a scan of her heart beat, she's unconscious, but

she's alive."

Hope tore through Clint's heart as Tony tore open the black casing

around Natasha, but that feeling of relief suddenly died the moment

he saw her. Neither of the men made any sound as they saw her,

the fact of her being entirely naked was completely overshadowed

by the colourful range of injuries that covered her body. She had

been beaten, over and over, that much as blindingly obvious by the

bruising across her body and the amount of blood that was smeared

from multiple sources.

Clint could easily pick up the scent of Chloroform and something

more sinister burnt flesh. He could see no wounds that would

suggest such a thing and this prompted him to shakily reach

forward and turn her slightly, revealing a mess of branded marks

across her back.

"She needs a hospital." Tony said with a dead tone, after a few

seconds of staring in complete shock.

"Base." Clint managed to choke out as he moved her onto her back

again, checking her pulse and finding it to be fearfully weak. "Get

her to base." He didn't think his legs would obey his command but

he was able to launch to his feet and run into her room, crashing

into about three walls in the process. He returned to the lounge with

a blanket he had pulled from the end of her bed and with Tony's

help, he managed to ease her from the body bag and wrap the soft

material around her.

"I'll send someone to pick you up-" Tony started to say as he pulled

Natasha gently into his arms, but a glare from Clint caused the

words to die in his throat.

"Don't you dare worry about me!" Clint snapped, giving him a

vicious push toward the door. "Get her to the fucking base!" Tony

needed no more encouragement, he bent his knees and flew out the

open door without another word, clutching an unconscious Natasha

tightly to his chest.

Clint sank back down to his knees and clenched his fists as his

shoulders shook with rage. It took him almost a minute to calm

himself down, sucking in deep breaths to try and ease the building

anger inside him. He glanced up with eyes that could see nothing

but Natasha's battered body lying in front of him. Something

strange caught his attention and he focused back onto reality as his

vision was centred on the wall of behind her couch. Bold letters

were roughly scrawled across the wallpaper and the words made

Clint's blood run cold.

"Not a screamer."

Tony burst through the roof of the medical facility at the main base,

blatantly ignoring the screams of shock as debris rained down. He

had been careful to chose a spot that would result in a complete

lack of injuries and he had absolutely no time to waltz in through

the main door.

"A Doctor, Now!" He yelled to anyone that would listen and he was

almost instantly swamped by medical professionals as they

understood his reason for dropping in so dramatically. He allowed

Natasha to be removed from his arms and placed on a gurney, the

blanket torn away from her so her injuries could be observed. He

walked with them as they hurriedly moved her to a more stable

location and glared at one of the nurses as she tried to stop him

from following them into a room.

"No, you can't come in." She said sternly and he was about to

protest when he noticed that the group was dwindling to a more

acceptable number of attendees and it seemed to be the males that

were all leaving. He understood that she was unclothed but they

were all professionals and he wasn't about to just leave her alone.

He opened his mouth to argue when he heard someone yelling with

annoyance from inside the room.

"The rape-kit can wait, her knife wounds need to be attended to

first!"

Tony eyes widened and he stopped trying to move into the room,

the nurse took that as a sign of his compliance and swiftly stepped

back inside, shutting the door with pointed force. Tony stumbled

backwards and sank into one of the chairs, not even sure if he had

been aware of its presence. The metal groaned under him but held

its shape for the most part as he removed his helmet and set it

down on the floor next to him, running a hand through his hair.

"Oh Tash" He muttered with genuine emotion sounding in his

voice for the first time in a long while.

Chapter 6

The moment Bruce saw Natasha on the hospital bed, he almost lost

it. This was not how the Black Widow was supposed to look, it was

not a way he had ever expected to see Natasha. She was not a

victim, she was a fighter and he had seen her injured before, but

never so broken. Bruises covered the skin that was visible, most of

her body was under a sheet that had been loosely draped over her,

for modesty reasons no doubt. The other nurses had not wanted

Bruce to come in the room and they had protested until her

condition had completely stabilized. He almost wished he had stayed

outside.

No one else had been let in, not even Clint who was absolutely

fuming about not being allowed to see his partner but Bruce had

reached a point where he was not going to take no for an answer.

Yet after much persuasion to be let in, he had simply stood by the

door for a few minutes and listened to the beeping of the heart

monitor that was registering her feeble rhythm. She had been

through a lot in a short amount of time, Natasha was tough, but

how could anybody be this tough?

He wasn't really aware of when he crossed the room, he was just

suddenly at her side, ignoring the nurses as they moved around him

and tried to continue patching her up. It sickened him to see the

cuts and bruises, the tube down her throat, the IV in her arm, the

oxygen that needed to be pumped into her lung to assist with her

breathing. She was one of the strongest people he knew, it was

unnatural to see her in such a weakened state.

He dropped into a chair that one of the nurses pushed over and

carefully took her hand in his, rubbing his thumbs over her knuckles

but avoiding the purple fingers, which looked as though they had

been stood on. Part of him wanted to get angry about the way she

looked so defeated and the other part of him just wanted to be sad

for her.

He nearly had a heart attack himself when the steady beeping of the

monitor suddenly cut out and he was forced out of the way as the

nurses panicked. He couldn't help but release his hold on her hand

as the defibrillator was wheeled forward and backed away a little to

let the nurses do their job.

The first electrical current did nothing to bring her back, only

increasing the already brutal pace of Bruce's heart as he clutched at

his chest, trying to keep his focus on Natasha. If he gave in to the

animal, everyone in the room would die. Including Natasha.

"Call it." One of the nurses said after a few tries of receiving nothing

but a bland monotonous tone. Bruce's head snapped toward her and

he scowled, eyes flickering between brown and green.

"Don't you dare!" He snapped. None of the others were used to

Bruce being anything other than polite and quiet, it was a shock to

see him so angry, knowing what would come next.

"Dr. Banner," The nurse said hesitantly, her voice shaking slightly,

"I'm afraid she's d-"

"No she isn't!" Bruce half yelled, refusing to believe it. He took a

step forward and glared with pure malice, his skin taking on the

tiniest hint of green. "Again."

The word was not spoken by Bruce, though it did in fact come from

his lips and the fear on the faces of those in the room was more

than obvious. It was because of her blatant terror, that the nurse

complied and placed the paddles to Natasha's chest once again.

"Clear." She squeaked with a shaky tone. Natasha's body seized and

arched off the bed as Bruce held his breath, his eyes now trained on

the heart monitor. The slightest fluctuation in the tone was enough

to send the nurses running back to action stations and Natasha was

quickly zapped again, garnering a large beep from her heart.

He was back at her side the moment her heart was steady again,

taking her hand in a grip that was most likely too tight and possibly

uncomfortable, but with the amount of things they were pumping

into her, he doubted she would even feel it.

He had been trying to deny it for a long time, but it seemed that he

needed to face the truth and accept that he cared for Natasha more

than he thought was safe. It would only end in disaster, he was well

aware of that, for who could ever care about a monster like him?

But this doubt didn't change the fact that he was going to find her

tormentor and rip him limb from limb, smiling as he did so.

"Natasha"

Everything was a swirl of disorientation, there was no pain, no

emotion and nothing at all to be concerned about. It was dark and

empty, but she knew there was nothing to fear about the void. She

had been through so much and had so much pain thrust upon her in

her life. It was all going away, she was aware of a numbness

spreading over her, a release of the agony she had been holding in

for so long.

"Natasha."

The pain was gone entirely, the numbness was complete and she

was finally free.

"NATASHA!"

The pain returned with a vicious vengeance and slammed into her

chest, spreading like fire through her limbs and reaching right to the

tips of her fingers. There was a short pause when the burning

retracted but it only lasted a second before returning with full force

and filling her with agony again. She was no longer numb, the

intense pain was a sure sign of that and she was aware of her body

moving, seizing uncontrollably with a pulsing electrical current.

"Natasha can you hear me?"

"Natasha?"

"Squeeze my hand if you can hear me!"

"Natasha, open your eyes if you can!"

So many voices, so many faces swimming above her, wide eyes and

surgical masks among shockingly bright lights that caused her to

blink rapidly in confusion. She tried to speak, but something was

wrong and she was having trouble swallowing, it took her a moment

to understand there was a thick tube in her throat.

Before she could even figure out how to ask for it to be removed,

she felt it sliding up and forced herself to remain entirely still until it

was out of her mouth. She coughed by reflex and grimaced, the

small fit was enough to remind her of the pain and tension rolling

through her body. She swallowed a few times to try and ease the

strain on her throat, letting out a little groan at the effort she had to

use.

"Natasha, can you hear me?" The voice was so different from the

rest, sounding far less professional and filled with obvious concern

that was trying to be hidden from her. She turned her head slowly,

aware that she may have appeared lazy in her movements but with

the complete lack of energy in her body, it couldn't be helped.

Her eyes took a moment to focus on the figure sitting next to her,

perched in a chair that could absolutely not have been pushed any

closer to her bed. There was a hint of purple shading under his eyes

that suggested a recent lack of sleep and lines of worry were etched

into his forehead.

"Bruce?" Natasha tried her hardest to form the word clearly, but it

came out as a strained whisper that was barely audible.

A pang of sadness flashed in his eyes and he dropped his gaze to his

hand, which she suddenly realized was gripping hers gently. A wave

of nausea rolled through her and she closed her eyes for a few

moments, taking a shuddering breath to try and combat the feeling

of vomiting. She was sure her body just didn't have the energy to

fulfil the motion, not to mention her stomach must have been

entirely empty.

"Everything is going to be okay Natasha." The softness of Bruce's

voice prompted her to open her eyes and lock them into his again.

There was something in them that she was having trouble placing

while in her weakened state, a resolution that suggested he was

making a promise to her. With his free hand he reached up and

gently brushed a lock of hair behind her ear. She tried not to think

about how filthy she must have looked, no doubt her hair was

matted and covered with blood.

"You're safe now." He said quietly, almost too quiet to be heard.

"Safe?" She croaked out, her voice breaking with the strain of even

uttering such a simple word. She winced at the raspy movement of

her throat and was unaware of a nurse injecting something into the

IV in her arm. She begun to feel the effects a moment later and a

calm dizziness filled her mind, encouraging her to close her eyes

though she was desperate to stay awake.

"Yes. Safe." Bruce whispered, his voice sounding muffled and far

off. She wasn't sure if it was her imagination or not, but she thought

she could feel gentle fingers caressing her cheek as she was lulled

into the embrace of the darkness once more.

The next time she awoke she had a lot more of her wits about her

and the pain was dulled enough for her to understand she was still

being pumped with drugs. A groan left her throat before she had

even opened her eyes and she reflexitively clutched her hand to

take comfort in the one that had been holding it. Her fingers closed

around thin air and she flicked her eyes open in confusion, looking

to the side and noting the chair was empty. Maybe it had all been a

morphine induced dream.

"I would say 'welcome back Sleeping Beauty', but it hardly applies."

She turned her head to the other side of her bed and was a little

surprised to see Tony sitting on a chair with his arms folded, raising

his eyebrows at her. "You look. Terrible."

"I feel terrible." She murmured, relieved to find her throat was far

less painful than before.

"You had us really worried Tash." Tony said, adorning a serious

expression that he rarely used and never with her.

"Oh sorry." She muttered with enough sarcasm to make him smirk.

"Should have been more concerned about you guys. Next time this

happens I'll be sure to think more about how it will affect you."

"I told them you would be fine in no time." Tony said with a shrug

and Natasha noticed for the first time that he seemed weary and

strained, even though he was definitely trying to portray his usual

composure, there was something underneath the faade that was

plaguing him.

"I see you've been worrying about me." Natasha said quietly and

with a lazy flick of her hand, she indicated his nails, pointing out the

way they had been chewed along the tips. She expected him to get

defensive, but instead he just smiled brightly.

"Oh you think this is bad?" He chuckled quietly, clasping his hands

together on his knees. "I may be ruining my manicure, but you have

Mr. Green coming out." He gave her a wink, evidently pleased by

her confused expression as she tried to understand what he was

telling her.

"Bruce Hulked?" She suddenly tried to sit up, her hands scrabbling

at the side of the bed to move her into a sitting position and her

heart monitor filled the room with wild beeping. "Jesus! Is he okay?

Where is he Stark! Did he get hurt?"

Tony rolled his eyes and put a hand on her shoulder to keep her

still, normally she would have been able to break that hand with a

flick of her wrist, but her movements were slow and sluggish due to

the anaesthesia that was preventing the pain from surfacing.

"He's fine." Tony assured her as she finally stopped struggling

against him, admitting defeat. "He's barely left your side though,

the whole time you've been in here. I had to forcibly remove him

about an hour ago, he needed sleep and there was apparently no

one else he would have trusted to stay by you. Not even Clint."

"How long have I been here?" Natasha asked, not processing most

of what Tony had just explained as she looked around the medical

lab and down at her body, noting the mess of wires and the IV in

her arm.

"Almost three days." Tony said calmly, observing the his nails with a

sigh. "Apparently you flat lined and they needed to put you into a

medically induced coma. Only the special treatment for our little

assassin."

"How did I even" Natasha winced as she tried to remember how

she had gotten to her current location and was hit with another

wave of nausea.

"Clint and I found you at your house." Tony spoke quietly, allowing

her to read between the lines and understand that she had been in

a terrible state.

"Thank you." She said sincerely and the trademarked smirk

returned to his face.

"Oh? The Black Widow can actually show gratitude? I don't think

I've even heard you say that before."

"You're such a dick." She muttered and rolled her eyes, only earning

a laugh from him. The laugh died in his throat almost instantly and

she stared at him confused, completely unaware of why he had so

suddenly changed his mood. The look in his eyes changed to one of

sympathy and pity, not something to be unexpected considering her

state but it came so abruptly that she didn't quite understand.

"Stark?" She tilted her head a little, becoming even more confused

as he dropped his gaze to his hands and slumped his shoulders. She

had never seen him like that, so openly burdened and after a

moment of silence she finally understood why. He knew.

"Does anyone else know?" She asked with a lifeless tone, her

expression becoming as neutral as she could make it. He shook his

head and lifted his eyes to meet hers, showing the truth. "Good.

Don't you dare tell anyone."

He opened his mouth to argue but she shot him a fierce look that

was terrifying even while she was so bruised and beaten. "I mean it

Stark. I will not have you running around and telling the world how

weak I am."

"No one will see it like that Tash!" He said with a pleading tone,

sitting forward a little. "We only want to help."

"I don't need your help." She said coldly, rolling over onto her side

in a way that told him she didn't want to talk to him. It was a

painful motion and she felt a strange sensation down her back that

was new to her and confusing, the skin feeling as though it was

stretching unhealthily. "Can you leave? I would like to get some

sleep."

It was a lie and not a very good one, but after a few seconds Tony

stood and walked across the room, pausing at the door as though

he wanted to say something. He thought better of it and exited the

room, leaving her alone with incessant beating of the heart monitor

and the images and flashbacks that were flooding her mind.

Chapter 7

A loud knock on the door prompted Natasha to awaken from her

light doze, glancing around for just a moment before understanding

where she was and what was happening. She winced as she pulled

her body into a more dignified position, resting her back against the wall and stretching her legs out. Everything was still aching and

sore, but she was definitely on the mend and nearly every medical

professional had remarked on how well she had been healing.

"Yeah." She called out toward the door and managed a smile when

she saw Clint walk in with his hands behind his back. "What are you hiding?" She asked suspiciously as he stepped into the room and

purposely kept his back toward the door.

"I brought you a surprise." He said with a wink and she rolled her

eyes, shifting a little higher in the bed.

"Hand it over Barton." She said with a tone that warned him she

was not amused by the game he was trying to instigate. "Before I

come over there and take it from you. Probably getting injured in the process. Do you want that on your conscious?"

"Always with the guilt Tash." He joked with a chuckle and stepped forward, pulling a paper bag from behind him and dropping it on her

lap. The smell of processed meat and cheese hit Natasha as though

it was a solid force and she groaned with happiness, her eyes shining in gratitude.

She tore open the bag and pulled out a cheeseburger that had so much grease it was basically leaking through the wrapper. "Oh wow,

I owe you for this Clint." She moaned with delight as she took a bite

of the burger and took her time to chew the unhealthy meat, savouring the flavours on her tongue for as long as possible.

"I heard you were complaining about the food." Clint said, perching on the side of her bed and taking a fry from the bag, munching on it

with a smile.

Natasha leaned to the side and picked up a cup of chocolate yogurt

that had been opened but not eaten at all. "Do you see this? This is

what they give me until my stomach can handle anything more solid. Yogurt and pudding. With no taste. Not even allowed coffee."

"Oh poor Tash." Clint waved his arms dramatically, ignoring the

scowl on her face. "Oh my food is crap, I'm so hard done by." He

ducked as she tossed the yogurt at him and it splattered across th