Live. Laugh. LOVE. - A Romanogers fanfiction

Save Her!

Steve groaned and blinked his eyes open. Slowly his vision cleared. He saw white walls, an IV, and some familiar faces. He saw the familiar long black hair of his best friend Bucky, the worried eyebrows of Sam, the kind face of Clint, the concerned eyes of Wanda, and even the troubled expression on Scott Lang. Everyone was here, yet Steve felt someone was missing. Some who was important to him.

"Nat," he croaked. "Where's Natasha?" He tried to abruptly sit up. Sam pushed him back down.

"No, don't get up. You're still healing," he chided Steve. A frown was etched on Steve's face.

"I don't care. I want to know where Natasha is," he replied stubbornly. The others shared a glance.

"Where is Natasha?" He raised his voice this time. Bucky sighed, and sat down in the chair next to him. He began telling Steve about what happened after he got knocked out, while Wanda looked down at the ground with a guilty face. Slowly, pieces of yesterday came and formed in Steve's mind. Steve being shot in the stomach. The hollowed out feeling when he fell to the ground. The touch of Nat's hand on his cheek... Natasha. It was always Natasha.

"I need to go save Nat," Steve said in a matter-of-fact tone. Everyone shook there head and a chorus of no's erupted in the room.

"Sam and I will go," Clint responded in a stern tone. Steve closed his eyes, frustration washing over him like a wave.

"No," he said, his voice rising every second. "You don't understand - ugh. It has to be me! It has to be me who rescues Natasha. If I don't go back there and save her, I will never be able to forgive myself!" The room suddenly became silent. Without waiting for a reply, Steve abruptly stood up and limped out of the room, hugging his stomach as he did so.

Natasha glared at the guards from inside her cell. They had plopped her in here, and put her under the same conditions that Wanda was put in. One twitch of her head would send an electric spasm through her body. Her arms and legs could only move a few inches.

"Arghh!!" She yelled out in anger, though she knew no one could hear her. She was furious at herself, furious that she got caught like this, like she was a bird trapped in a cage. She was supposed to be the Black Widow, the best spy/assassin in the world. She wasn't supposed to get caught like this. They had taken away all her guns and disposed them. I'm nothing but a failure, she thought to herself.

It's been long since she had thought these type of thoughts. It was only in the red room, when she was filled was so much self-hate, so much anger, so much hopelessness. She remembered the bruises on her wrist from trying to pry her hands out of the handcuffs in her sleep. How hoarse her throat was from screaming so often. The faded blue eyes and motionless expression of her best friend when she died. She had killed her best friend. I'm nothing but a murderer, a killing machine. I'm nothing but a threat to society.

Loud grunts aroused her from her thoughts. She snapped her head up and winced as she was once again electrocuted by that stupid electric collar. The guards were hastily grabbing there guns and shooting blindly.

Suddenly, a familiar frisbee-looking object came flying toward one guard. As soon as it hit the guards throat, it bounced back to its owner. Steve!

Sure enough, he was fighting off the guards, his moves so fast that he was like a tornado. His infamous shield came down on a guard's head, and then he shot another one in the stomach. Steve's foot came crashing at a guard's chest, his elbow following suit as it made contact with another's stomach. He then tripped one guard and bashed two other guard's foreheads together. Although he was doing extremely well, Natasha felt an urge to help him.

Soon, Steve was rising from a pile of bodies of fallen guards, his handsome face now a mess. A black and blue bruise was very prominent on his left cheek, and there was a nasty-looking scar on his right temple. He yelled something to Natasha, and although she couldn't hear him, she could read his lips.

"Nat!" Steve frantically gestured with his hands. The message was clear. Natasha moved her head slightly up and to the right, and grimaced as the shock of electricity hit her. But Steve seemed to have understood. He gave his shield a powerful toss, and the glass door slid open. So this is how Wanda must've felt, Natasha thought, almost overwhelmed with happiness.

As soon as Steve stepped into the cell, Natasha threw her arms around him, just as Clint, Sam, Scott, and Wanda had done to her.

"Whoa," Steve said as he returned he hug, but it was obvious that he was happy to see her. When they broke away, Natasha opened her mouth to say something, but Steve silenced her.

"Not now. You can thank me later. First I need to get you out," he ordered. The redhead smirked in response.

"As bossy as always," she noted, looking pointedly at him with her shining emerald eyes. He playfully rolled his eyes and went to work with the electric collar. He raised his shield with to break it open, and Natasha didn't feel a single worry that he was going to miss. She knew that he would never miss something like this. She trusted him, more than she trusted anyone, more than she even trusted herself. Steve frowned, worry lines marking his forehead.

"It's okay, I don't care if you hit me," she said softly, closing her eyes at the same time. One, two, three... and the shield came down with a loud bang! The electric collar fell off the spy, and clattered to the floor.

"See? Not that hard," Natasha remarked, a grin on her face. Although there was no response from Steve, she could still tell that he was trying to suppress a smile. Soon enough, her wrist and ankle cuffs were off her as well. Natasha ripped the straight jacket off of herself and turned to look at Steve.

"Shall we go?" She questioned him, a hint of playfulness in her voice.

"Sure," he answered, and was about to say something else but yelped and clutched his stomach. Blood was staining his clothes and running onto his hands where it rested upon his stomach.

"What is it? Are you okay?" Natasha asked. Concern was written all over her face. Steve nodded with his eyes shut.

"Yeah, it's just my stitches. They opened. I'm fine," he said in a weak tone. Natasha sighed, and wrapped his arm around her shoulders.

"Well, let's make sure you don't lose any more blood," she replied, and allowed Steve to lean on her as they walked out of the horrors of the underwater prison.