Last Chapter called, "Two Weeks, Part _," I promise, haha!
Hands were on my hips, I was back in the sauna.
I couldn't see him through the steam.
A hand slipped between my legs, a finger slipping up my center, I couldn't stop the laugh and buck.
The finger kept sliding, a large hand was now splayed across my abdomen.
"Fat."
The voice was not Steve, it was Bruce. Suddenly those hands on my hips started to burn, I tried to move, but they turned to stone and gripped tighter, digging into my skin. The third hand was still on my abdomen as the fog started to clear from the room, taking the warmth with it and leaving me chilled.
Bruce was smiling down at me, a wicked grin, "I can barely recognize you with all this fat," he tsked, "we can't have that."
I tried to get away again, but the hands holding me down were now fully cemented, then two more masonry hands protruded from the wall to grab my shoulders, my torso was completely locked as I thrashed to get away.
Bruce was there, now with a handful of sharp safety pins. He opened one and started to jab it into my skin, folded it over, and jabbed it into another area of skin before closing the pin.
Again.
Again.
Again.
I screamed, and then the door to the left opened up, Steve. "Steve," I sighed in relief, he was here to save me.
He didn't change, his face was in a tight frown as he came over and examined me, he reached a hand down to cup my breast, he cocked his head, then drove his palm into my very bruised ribs. I screamed and closed my eyes, the pain was too much now. I trashed and fought a-
"NAT!" I sat up so fast I collided my forehead into his shoulder, hard. My vision went black for a millisecond from the impact.
"Bruce?" I panted, where was I? My eyes still weren't working, my head wasn't catching up to the speed of the world.
"Nat, he's not here," Steve assured me.
Steve, he had hurt me.
"Get away!" I shouted in his face as I backed up into the headboard of the bed, scanning how to get out from him, he was kneeling over where I had just been.
At my words, he backed up. I raised my chin in suspicion and disbelief. "Why would you do that to me?" I almost begged, the sob escaped at the end. How could he, Steve, do that?
"Nat, you were having a nightmare, I'm sorry that I had to touch you to wake you, but you were screaming and I think you were hurting yourself," he looked so concerned.
"No, you hurt me," I didn't understand what was going on, "you helped him, you pushed my ri-" I stopped as he looked as confused as I felt. I swallowed hard, "it... it was a dream."
A tear was rolling down his cheek as he nodded slowly, "ya, it was a dream Nat," he was about to cry.
"Steve, what's going on?" I was so confused, the line between dream and reality was so blurred, I hadn't lost control over my nightmares like this in so long. I looked around the room, I started to recognize my surroundings more.
He sighed, he looked so defeated. "Nat, did I hurt you? In your dream?"
I just nodded.
His eyes closed in pain, "you know I would never, ever hurt you, right?"
I didn't react, I just kept staring at him. Part of me knew he was right, he would never, ever do a damned thing to hurt me... but part of me just lived a dream that felt so real. I placed a hand on my abdomen just to double check those pins weren't still in my flesh.
"I will never hurt you," his tone was so resolved that I relaxed a bit.
Neither of us spoke for a long time.
He looked so broken right now, "I'm sorry. I don't know how to protect you from your dreams, Nat. I can help when you're awake, but I can-"
"Steve," I finally broke my silence, "I know. I feel so guilty that it happened, and I'm sorry I reacted-"
"You have nothing to be sorry for," he interrupted me.
"Neither do you," I challenged with a humorless smirk.
"You're sitting funny, how bad do your ribs hurt right now?" He was looking me over to see what else I might have hurt in my thrashing.
"Don't deflect it, you have nothing to be sorry for," I insisted.
"I feel so guilty, and correct me if I'm wrong, but you feel guilty too," he laughed, once again, there wasn't any humor here.
"And we both don't think the other should feel guilty," I added.
"Yet we can't shut off the emotions," he shrugged.
Now the tears were streaming down both our faces, "I feel like we're so lost, Steve. We're two days in and I haven't made any progress, I-"
"Woah, woah," he stopped me, "you have made leaps and bounds of progress, do not undersell that for a second."
I cocked my head, we were sitting here and I was scared of him touching me, that was not progress.
"You ate food," he listed.
"I threw it up," I countered.
"Not on purpose, and even if you had, I'm proud of the fact that you did it," his smile was so true, I had to fight my facial muscles to stop myself from smiling back. "You have let me touch you, which is so much more than you needed to, and I am so damn proud of that," he listed.
"Yes, and look where we are right now! Opposite corners of the bed, we're both terrified, an-"
"Natasha," he stopped me, "you had a bad dream. That does not discount what amazing leaps and bounds you have accomplished in just two days, you are so incredibly strong, and I am so proud."
"You're crying more," I observed out loud.
"Because I love you. I love you so fucking much and I am so proud," he was grinning again, "and because," the smile was gone, "because I can't save you from this."
"Steve, you already have," I stated like it was obvious, because it was, "not a single bit of my progress did not come from you being with me, being patient, and being kind. Everything I have done in these two days, it is because you have been here for me." Tears were streaming down both our faces.
"Let's make a pact, we're both going to try and be a bit nicer to ourselves as we get through this," he suggested.
"I'll try," I was a bit sarcastic, but he took what he could get.
"Back to you, your ribs seem to be killing you," I knew he wanted to look at them more, but he had also figured out what role he had played in my dream.
"They don't feel great," I shrugged, only hurting them more.
"Can we go get a scan on them?" He slowly stood up, I worked not to flinch, and he gently offered me a hand.
"Sure," I agreed. I didn't really want to, but I knew it would make Steve feel a bit better. I took his hand and used it to steady me, I was still a bit shaken from the nightmare and probably from standing up fast, my vision swirled again. Part of me wanted him to put his arm around me, but I knew I was covered in a cold sweat, so I didn't ask.
But he did, "are you okay if I put my arm around you?"
"I'm sweaty," I stated.
"I don't care about that, I care if you're comfortable," he answered as he opened the door and held it for me. He could also probably tell how unstable I was.
"That would be nice," he opened his arm for me to tuck under, which I did and I was instantly happy he had asked me to. He wrapped his arm around me, I had to school my brain into remembering that this was real, and he would never hurt me.
We took a few steps like that, "you okay still?"
"Ya," I honestly was, he was warm and steady, and I liked being held by him. It felt like the real touch was drowning out the touch from the nightmare.
"Okay," he was happy that I was feeling safe with him again.
We took the elevator down to the medical levels and walked over to the MRI room. "Can we just do an x-ray? They're faster," I objected as he opened the door.
"Yes, but I want to check everything out, make sure the muscles are okay too," he explained as he started to hit buttons on the machine.
"I'm honestly surprised you know how to do this," I used my tone to let him know I was asking why he knew how to run the MRI.
"I promised Clint I wouldn't tell that story," he snickered a bit at a memory.
"Oh, I can only imagine then," I laughed. It was usually my line that I wouldn't tell him a story due to Clint's involvement/asking of me not to share due to the embarrassment.
He offered me a hand and helped me lay back on the table, then put the cover over my chest with padding to hold it all secure. He then grabbed several warmed blankets and layered me in them, "even I think it's cold in here, you have to be freezing."
"I can handle the cold," I argued, but didn't object to the blankets. It was true, I could handle the cold... before all the weight loss. It had been clear over the events of the last few days that my body wasn't retaining heat, but neither of us commented more on that.
"Eye cover," he laid a small rag over my eyes. I was never a claustrophobic person, I had crawled through air vents and caves smaller than the MRI was, but it always made me more comfortable to have my eyes covered during this scan, I wasn't sure why. "Headphones," he placed them over my ears, and then handed my the emergency stop button.
I couldn't hear but I knew he was leaving the room and going over to the control area, a few moments later, I heard his voice through the headphones, "okay, can you hear me?"
"Roger Roger," I laughed a bit.
"Good. You know the drill, it's going to be loud, but just try to stay still and maybe take a nap," his voice cut through again.
"You'll have to ask me to hold my breath at some parts, I probably shouldn't fall asleep," I reminded him.
"Uh, true," he corrected himself, I could tell he was trying to figure out when that would be.
"The machine will remind you," I stopped his curiosity.
"I haven't needed to do a chest MRI," he offered as explanation for his lack of experience.
"I can only imagine what Clint made you do," I laughed a bit, which was hard given the cage holding my ribs in place.
"Okay, I'm going to start it, but what music do you want?" He started to list them, "we have country, pop, classical."
"Just put your playlist on," I decided.
"Roger Roger," he mocked my previous mocking of him, and then the music started. A moment later, the table was moving and the machine started its loud clicking and drones, I relaxed as much as I could. I had had so many MRIs in my life I was used to the drill, but I was still a bit on edge from the dream I had just had. I kept my breathing shallow so as not to move too much, and just focused on the breaths and the music to calm my nerves.
During the MRI, I must have relaxed enough to lightly doze off. Steve interrupted a few times to have me hold my breath, but that wasn't too bad. I was almost back asleep when I felt the table start to move out of the machine and start to lower. Someone took my headphones off, "hey you," Steve smiled and then took off the eye cover.
"Hi," I hummed, still a bit groggy from going in and out of that half sleep.
"Should I just leave you here to continue to nap?" He removed my covers just enough that he could start to take off the cage of my ribs and all the padding.
"No, it's too cold," I argued, even with the blankets it had been freezing in here.
"How about we go get a coffee? Something to warm you up a bit?" He suggested, I could tell he was also bracing for me to say no.
"A small one," I agreed while he busied himself with shutting down the MRI.
"Natasha, I know you don't-" he suddenly paused mid sentence. Apparently he already had his comeback to my expected denial ready to go, not realizing I had agreed until he was already, he quickly turned to face me, "I mean, ya, let's go."
I laughed a bit, "ya, ya. I'll get the footage ready," I realized I didn't have a phone given that I had been in a giant magnet.
"I can figure out the b-roll program, you go get changed into something warm," he offered me a hand and helped me sit up, his other hand hovering around me should I pass out from sitting up too fast. That hypotension did come back and I tried to blink it away, "you okay?"
"Ya," I nodded, my head slowly clearing.
"Okay, just take your time, no rush," he eased, the hand that had been hovering came and clasped behind my neck. The touch was gentle so I wouldn't jump, but firm enough that I wouldn't think it was just a wisp and jump from that either.
"I'm good," I assured as I scooted myself off the table to stand up.
He didn't respond, just let me use his hand for support. The hand around the back of my neck didn't leave, holding me steady.
"Steve, I'm fine," I let go of his hand and held myself up to prove my point.
"Okay," he reluctantly gave me my space, letting go but not backing up too far.
I rolled my eyes and walked by him, "I'm just going to go change, don't mess with the footage, I love you, but you'll mess it up."
He followed, walked over to grab his and my phone from the MRI control area, and we took the elevator back to our rooms. I put on some warm clothes, and while Steve made a fuss that they weren't warm enough for how cold it was and how cold I already was, I won the argument and we made our way to the tower's main lobby while I organized the footage together seamlessly.
"I'm going to make a program that automatically does this," I groaned when I was finally done.
"I thought you modified Barton's," he inquired.
"Yes, that streamlined the process, but I think I'll make a program that just automatically reshuffles the image when we are in the same room," I informed, all this hacking was just getting tedious.
"Can I ask you a question about it?" Steve could tell that I was exasperated with it, so he didn't want to continue the conversation if I was over it.
"Ya, ask away," I replied.
"How has Stark not figured out that we're messing with the footage so often?"
I laughed just a bit, "Stark only checks the data when FRIDAY alerts him to something wrong or suspicious going on, her programming has a whole list of occurrences. I've modulated her to not inform him of anything when we're in the room, it instead just overrides her commands and puts her into a loop. I have to clear her every so often. That's about as simple as I can make it," the last sentence was more of a question to see if I satisfied his curiosity.
"Makes sense," he nodded, "and thank you for simplifying that down, that was about as much tech complexity as I could handle."
I laughed again and leaned into him, despite us being out in public, I was a bit more showy with affection. Bruce, I didn't like thinking about him at all, be damned. If he was watching the footage, I would come up for some excuse about me being cold or my legs being sore.
We walked down the street to a closer Starbucks and ordered some coffee, Steve ordered us both large lattes before I could order a small one for myself. "Sorry to order for you, habit," he instantly realized that I might have taken that as an overstep.
"No, it's fine," I assured him, which it was. Before all these issues, if we didn't mobile order a coffee, Steve would almost always say our order to the barista. I would get stressed when ordering the coffees for some reason and usually mess it up.
We waited for several minutes as the store was absolutely jam packed, but eventually the lattes came and we exited back onto the busy streets. I sipped at my coffee, which was doing wonders to warm me up. It didn't slip my notice that Steve had ordered a large one for me rather than the small one I had wanted, but I didn't make a fuss, I just wouldn't drink the whole thing.
"So, what are the plans for the evening?" He asked as we winded down the streets, we were just wandering at this point in no real or particular direction, and I guess I hadn't realized that the sun was so low. It was the end of the second day already, it felt like the time was just flying by.
"I don't care," I mused, I was a bit distracted by my window shopping.
"You want to go to the bookstore?" He offered, following my line of sight.
"It's closed," I pointed to the large closed sign on the door.
"Oh, well, that would make that a bit more difficult," he mused, "I mean, we could probably break in pretty undetected, but still."
"Steven Grant Rogers," I scolded, "are you suggesting we break an entry?"
"I mean, I wasn't saying we were going to steal any of the books, just peruse," he quickly defended himself. I couldn't help but laugh a bit.
"How about we do something just a bit more legal," I suggested, which seemed odd to be the suggestion coming from me.
"Okay, Miss Law-Abiding-Citizen," he mocked.
"Fine, fucking watch me," I took the mockery to heart and left his side, heading over to the small alley that would lead to the back of this particular bookstore.
"Nat," he jogged to catch up to me, "I was kidding, let's go do something else," he was snickering.
"Fuck you," I sneered, albeit playfully.
"Language," he corrected.
I started to survey the scene, not really bothering that he corrected my language nor would I be refraining from using such words at this point in time. There was a half wall that was several feet taller than I could jump, but I could propel myself off the back of the building and run up the corner in the walls easily. The walls were uneven brick and it created plenty of small ledges for my feet. Once on top of the half wall, it would be an easy stretch up into the air vent that was facing out. "Hold my coffee," I ordered without looking at him.
"I got your coffee, Honey," Steve took the drink, "but seriously, we don't have to do this." He offered, but I wasn't backing out now. Steve must have noticed that, "I can give you a boost up," he offered when he noted my stubborn determination.
"Don't need it," I smiled arrogantly, and with a quick wink over my shoulder, I bounced up the walls and was quickly perched on top of the half wall.
I could see Steve quickly rethinking his decision about challenging me, but he tried to hold his tongue.
I deftly pulled the cover off the air vent with practiced ease, given that this wasn't a maximum security facility, the thing practically fell off from me just touching it. I scooted myself easily into the vent, and placed the cover back behind me.
Once in, I crawled forward several paces and found the first drop down. I checked for any activity below out of habit, and was not at all shocked to find the place completely devoid of security. I dropped down quietly and entered what appeared to be a little back office for the store, but I didn't waste much time snooping around. I padded over to the door, unlocked it and disarmed the security code (the numbers 9, 1, 5, and 8 were all discolored from use, and it wasn't hard to guess that the code was most likely a birth year, 1958, given that it would be someone old enough to own a bookshop shop in Downtown New York).
I opened the door with a smug grin on my face. Steve had been panicking waiting, but was trying to cover it quickly. "My coffee, if you don't mind."
He tried so hard to hide the sigh of relief as he handed it to me, "ya, ya."
"Don't look so worried, did you really doubt me?" I inquired as we walked in. Part of me was just a bit offended that he didn't think I could do this small thing.
"It's not you that I doubt," he didn't turn to face me while we walked into the main part of the store.
"What do you mean by that?" I pushed.
"You know what I mean," he didn't want to deal with this conversation and let me know by walking over to the nearest bookshelf and started to drag his finger over the spines. It was a technology and coding, I hardly doubted he was interested in that.
"No, I don't. Elaborate," I ignored and continued to prod. I walked over to the section and stood close behind him, "'Tech for Dummies,' is on the bottom shelf."
He froze for a microsecond and inhaled hard, "Nat, I worry because you're not healthy right now. I know you are fully capable of doing a simple breaking and entering, but I am constantly worried because you could just collapse at any damned second!" He snapped a bit and lost control of his temper, whirling fast to face me.
It wasn't anger that made him raise his voice, it was fear, I knew that... but my brain didn't. For a second the room flashed away and I was back on the ground, back in Bruce's room and he was standing over me, yelling. I stumbled a step back without thinking.
He realized it a second later, "Nat, I'm so sorry," he was about to put his hands up, but stopped short realizing the action would just be worse for me.
I shook my head to clear it, "no, it's fine," I took a voluntary step back this time, then another. I was aware of the bookshelf behind me and turned to read covers, but then my back was to him. I couldn't stop the reflex as my shoulder blades retracted to protect my back. I compromised with my own fears and side stepped, so Steve was in my vision, but not all I could see.
"I didn't mean to yell or turn so fast," he continued.
"I know, it's fine," I waved it off. It really was fine, they were both normal reactions to the stress I was causing him with this whole situation.
"It's not fine," he countered, "none of this is," he added softly under a breath.
I walked over to the trashcan and threw away the coffee, aware that I couldn't see him again and listening carefully should he move. The few steps I took put me near the fantasy section, so I started to browse the books over here. I didn't know how to respond, he was right, but I wanted to refute him. I didn't want him to blame himself, but I would struggle to free him of the guilt.
We had a few minutes of silence where we both looked across the books, but neither of us moved. Neither of us were really looking at the books in front of us either, our eyes were scanning but we weren't reading. Our minds busy and far, far away.
"You remember that conversation about guilt we had earlier today?" He broke the silence.
"Ya," I turned to face him, finding him already facing me.
"I'm struggling to not feel guilty," he admitted.
"Me too," I followed suit.
"I'm going to be honest here, and I don't want you to get upset," he started, but it was more of a asking for permission to carry on with what he wanted to say.
I nodded.
"I see what this whole not eating thing is doing to you, and I know that the symptoms sometimes mean you just pass out. That one terrifies me, and I was scared when you broke in here that you were going to pass out where I couldn't get to you," he laughed a humorless sound, "I couldn't get to you easily. I want you to know I would have run through that wall if I needed to, I would have not stopped till I got to you, but that isn't the point. The point is that I am terrified for your health and safety right now."
I didn't know how to react.
"I've been researching all this, and that is probably making me more paranoid, but this is all so scary. I'm so worried that I'm rewatching CPR videos so that if your heart stops, maybe I can keep you here with me," he was crying now. "I can't lose you, I won't lose you."
I was stunned and silent. The guilt was mounting so fast that I didn't know how I was still standing against the pressure from it.
"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to make you feel guilty," he immediately sensed where my thoughts were going, "this isn't your fault."
I huffed sarcastically. I knew if I tried to speak actual words, I would probably start to cry hysterically.
"No, don't do that, I mean it. He is triggering you into a spiral, and I know that Eating Disorders and PTSD are hard as fuck to control even in a stable, healthy, and loving environment. None of which you get with him," he shook his head in anger, "and the most I can give you is small reprieves on missions and stolen glances."
"Steve, those mean everything to me," I assured him. My voice broke so I stopped talking because I didn't want to cry, it seemed like too much effort.
"I feel like we've had this conversation so many times," he stepped forward to close the distance, but stopped after one step. I hadn't flinched or tensed, but he didn't push till I did, he just opened his arms to see if I wanted to come over.
"You're not mad that we're just talking in circles?" I tilted my head.
"Not at all. Talking, even if it is just in circles, it's better than not talking. We're making progress, and maybe it's small, but talking about it each time is progress," he reassured.
He always knew what to say, I quickly closed the distance between us and practically ran into his arms. His words broke the dam on my tears and I started to cry, just a light sob. I didn't know if it was from pain or relief, but I didn't really care to soul search and find out.
"We're okay," he kept humming, gently swaying us back and forth, shh-ing me and kissing my head. I started to rub his back a bit to try and give him some comfort as well. I felt a few tears of his own slide down and land on my head.
After a while, I stopped crying, but we just kept swaying. It was so nice and peaceful, just standing there with Steve and not a worry in the world.
"Should we head back to the tower?" I asked after a while, hating to break the moment, but my legs were getting tired at this point.
"Ya, probably," Steve agreed. It was around two in the morning now and we walked out of the store, discarding our cold coffees. We walked back to the tower in silence, but I stayed tucked under Steve's arm, just enjoying the warmth and the safety. We got back and made our way back to Steve's room and tucked back under the covers, I curled into Steve and we fell asleep like that. Safe and together.
Tony P.O.V.
"Sir, I have a rather concerning scan I think you should look at," the A.I. interrupted the silence of the beach.
"Can it, FRIDAY," I groaned, "I'm on a break. If it's urgent, send it to someone else."
"Sir, I really must insist," she pushed. I should engineer the damned AIs in my life to be more complicated when I tell them to shut up.
I opened my eyes against the sun and sat up in my beach chair. "What is it?" Pepper asked from my left, my movement had caused a shadow to fall on her face.
"FRIDAY is making me look at something," I grumbled.
"Tell her if the tower isn't blowing up in the next six hours, we don't need to know about it," she huffed, "I thought you turned her off."
Pep reminded me that I had indeed turned FRIDAY off, she would only get me if an Avenger level threat popped up and needed immediate attention. "Shit, I probably forgot to do that," I covered, "I'm going to deal with shutting her off, you want another margarita?" There was no need to worry her until I knew exactly what was going on.
"Yes, that sounds wonderful," she smiled.
"OKay," I got up and walked over from the beach to the house's bar and patio. I set Dum-E up to work the bar and got him making the drink for Pepper while I grabbed a tablet and looked at the scan.
"FRIDAY, this is a fucking MRI," I seethed, I distinctly remembered setting her to emergency notifications despite what I told Peper. "You seriously are interrupting me as an Avenger's level threat for a medical scan? This better-"
"Sir," the voice almost pleaded, it was a new tone for her. It was enough that I looked, the MRI showed nasty, nasty rib fractures and intercostal muscular strains, but nothing that would pose immediate threat to life. If the ribs were put into a sling for a few weeks to prevent them from further fracturing and protecting the lung, this person would be fine.
That's when I noticed the name, Natasha Romanoff, and the scan was from earlier today in the tower. "FRIDAY, explain what the fuck this is?"
I was pretty aware of the other Avenger's schedules, given that I wanted to know who was living in the tower and when, it was a bit of an OCD thing and maybe a tad overprotective, but my brain worked like that. I knew Natasha didn't have any missions, and this wasn't a 'I just fell down the stairs injury.' FRIDAY also wouldn't have gotten me if it was simple, the AI broke her code for a reason.
"Sir, I am being blocked by an coding algorithm at the moment, I can't answer all-ll you- quesstoins," her voice was fritzing out as she rallied against whatever code was put on her, it was most likely Natasha who did it in the first place. Besides Banner, she was the only one who would have the ability to code over FRIDAY with any effectiveness.
"Show me all footage of Romanoff from the past few days, since I left," I started to plug several lines of code in to try and help FRIDAY out with getting out from under Nat's programming.
"This-is is all I-I-I-I," she was really losing it, "can g-g-et."
I watched the security footage, searching for anything out of place. I knew she and Steve were the only ones at the tower right now, and they appeared to be staying around the fiftieth levels pretty consistently. I was watching fast when I saw it, my eyes just barely catching it.
"Hold up, FRIDAY, zoom in on that," she did as I asked and the footage zoomed and slowed, a small fraction of the screen glitched, then Nat and Steve's image skipped forward just a step. This was too coincidental to be just a glitch, she was actively covering footage.... but why?
The lightbulb went off over my head, right as Dum-E finished the margarita. Natasha was alone at the tower with Steve, covering footage, and now she had an incredibly damaged rib cage. That motherfucking bastard hurt her. It was the only thing that made sense, and suddenly I was full of rage, how the hell would Steve do that? He seemed so kind and gentle, I almost didn't believe it, but it looked like the two of them barely left the tower, it would be the only way she could have gotten hurt like that. I couldn't think of another reason why she would cover the footage. Maybe I was jumping the gun on this assumption, but I was suddenly so mad that I didn't care about logic.
I walked the drink back over to Peper, "Hun, what do you think of Steve?"
"What's this coming from, Tony?" She sat up and grabbed the drink, squinting her beautiful eyes against the sun's rays.
"FRIDAY sent me a scan, an MRI from Nat," I started, I didn't know how much I wanted to stress her out right after her birthday, I had desperately wanted to give her a relaxing trip away from all the drama.
"FRIDAY sent it or Nat sent it?" She confirmed.
"FRIDAY sent it, and it looks like Romanoff is covering up the security footage so I can't figure out how the hell she broke her ribs," I elaborated.
"What would break Natasha's ribs?" She leaned forward, and it was a valid question. Natasha was a hell of a fighter, it would take something powerful and strong to even land a single blow on her.
"She's alone with Steve," I pointed out, "the two of them have only left the tower once... the scan was before that."
"You're not seriously suggesting that Steve hit her, are you?" Pepper almost spat out her drink.
"I don't see any other possibilities," I shook my head, it did seem crazy. "She is too agile for her to have injured herself, and even if it was from falling down the stairs or something, it would have had to be a two flight fall and there would definitely be more injuries. This looks like a direct hit, and he's got the Super Soldier Serum," I couldn't help but let my voice get a little sarcastica on the name of the serum my father had created.
"Fuck," was the only way Pepper agreed as she shook her head, "I mean, I can't believe it. I don't see another logical answer, but Steve? Steve?"
"Ya, there aren't any other options," I shrugged. Steve, as much as he could be a pain in the ass, was probably the least likely man on this planet to hit a woman, or so I had thought. I once witnessed him accidentally step on Nat's foot, he had apologized for a week and walked around like a dog with its tail between its legs.
"We have to go back," she was standing before she finished the sentence, grabbing up her things and packing her bags.
"Woah, woah. We? Pepper, I brought you out here to relax, please," I insisted.
"You want me to relax while Steve is breaking Nat's ribs?" She whirled like I was crazy.
"I don't want you getting in the cross hairs if Steve is actually abusing Nat," I let my fear slip out of my mouth before I thought about it.
"Steve wouldn't h..." the words died out on her lips, "gosh, it's just so not like him," she shook her head as she sat back down. "I'll stay here, but you have to promise to go get her, kick his ass, and then bring her back here."
"Will do," I agreed, which was a solid plan. I was happy Pepper had agreed to stay here without any fuss, I didn't want Steve next to her. Hopefully the tropical setting would be good for her to recover, and hopefully Steve would be six feet under or behind bars for what the hell he had done.