Chapter 19

"I don't get it," Steve confessed from his hospital bed. His gown was cut open from his waist down to his hip on his left side and he sat leaned back while the nurse was hard at work mending his stitches. All but one stitch had burst open in he and Natasha's hurry to escape the gunfire, and the nurse had to remove and replace the thread completely in order to clean and re-patch the wound. He said he couldn't feel the tiny pinpricks of pain under his injection of lidocaine, but Natasha still winced every time she watched the stitches pierce his skin.

"You said we were long since out of their reach when Wanda dropped the barrier. There's no way they could have followed us."

Natasha chewed on her nails, "Maybe they didn't follow us..." she suggested; thinking back to their hours wasted beforehand. "In the waiting room, families were looking at us like we were these... monsters. And Wanda; she was using her powers to spin a nickel on the table. I guess that must've freaking a couple parents out."

"Maybe one of them called the authorities?"

"Or maybe Ross traced Maria's call."

Steve sighed. It didn't make any sense. No matter what their situation was, Ross always seemed to be one step ahead of them – often in ways that they couldn't break down enough to understand how it was possible. And it was infuriating on so many levels.

The nurse paused mid-stitch and sighed, "They have your friends, don't they?"

Steve looked across the room at Natasha, who didn't return his gaze, but froze in her seat. She lowered her eyes and painfully, she nodded, "Yeah." She swallowed, "Yeah, they have our friends... I guess that makes two for two now? Three, for Wanda?"

Steve's eyes lowered to the floor as Natasha exhaled, "Well, something like that..." Their entire team was in the hands of the bad guys for the third time because of them... and it killed Natasha more than she was willing to show.

Off guard, the nurse injected Steve in his hip with a syringe. He flinched at first, taken aback by the sudden pressure from the needle, and he looked at her. "What is that?"

The nurse stayed concentrated on the syringe. "I'm giving you some Benadryl. Lots of it, actually. You should start to feel sleepy in a couple of minutes; this'll help you get some rest before it's time to put some food into your system. Are you hungry at all now?"

"No."

The nurse chuckled and widened her eyes, "You will be."

Moving on from her comment, Steve flipped his attention back to Natasha – who was sitting in a plastic chair at the foot of his bed. "You know we're gonna have to go back for them."

Natasha met his eyes, "We always do, but they're not my priority right now – you are."

"Natasha, I'm–"

"Don't–" Natasha squinted her eyes shut and flashed her teeth, "–Don't say the word. I'm gonna go get a water," She said, using her thumb to point behind her to the door. "Do you want one?"

"It's best for him to avoid fluids after a Benadryl shot; makes it easier for the patient to relax that way." The nurse chimed in before Steve could give the wrong answer.

"O-K," Natasha said awkwardly, "I will... be right back."

And then she left the room, closing the door softly behind her and pacing away quickly as she could to the vending machine. For some reason, the whole environment made her feel awkward and out of place. She had never been very good in social settings with people she had never met before. She didn't feel comfortable talking about the problem to Steve while the nurse was present, despite her welcoming hospitality. And when she got nervous, she got parched. Quite honestly, she didn't even know if they had a vending machine in the hospital – which is probably why she got an awkward look from the nurse when she announced she was going to get a water from one. But all hospitals had vending machines, right?

Well, at least this one did – thankfully. She approached it, reaching into her back pocket to pull out a couple bucks, and fed her dollar bill into the mouth of the machine. She pressed her finger to the circular button to select a bottle of water and waited for the machine to spit it out at the bottom, but it never did. She pressed it again and still – no water bottle.

I do not have the patience for this... just give me my damn drink, she thought as she repeatedly punched the button over and over again. Another thing she does when she gets nervous? She gets fidgety – and impatient. And those two traits did not mix well together.

"Sometimes you have to hold the button down longer." A voice said from behind her. Natasha didn't even look to see who it was – nor did she care to know. She held her finger down over the selection icon for a moment longer than before, and out came her bottle of water at the bottom of the machine. She bent down to pick it up and saw that the voice from behind her came from Steve's nurse. Great.

"Thank you," Natasha said; embarrassed.

She twisted the cap off of the bottle and sat herself down in one of the seats next to the machine while taking a large gulp. The nurse sighed and sat down in the chair across from her. Natasha avoided eye contact, ignoring the fact that the woman was right in front of her face watching her drink.

"That serum of his is something special..." The nurse said, breaking the silence, "He barely needed new stitching; the wound almost healed itself completely in that short time. If he stays in bed and doesn't try to force any unnecessary pressure onto it, he should be able to walk by early tomorrow morning."

Natasha nodded, but said nothing. She lowered her eyes – feeling uncomfortable again.

The nurse exhaled, almost in an agitated manner, and leaned in closer to Natasha for emphasis – wringing her hands, "You were very lucky. The shot missed his vital organs. That's something he could've survived on his own; the serum just speeds up the process."

Natasha looked at her, still silent.

"That's good, you know." The nurse clarified.

"No, I know." Natasha said finally, shaking it off, "I just... I can't help but feel like this is all my fault, you know? If I hadn't signed the accords..."

"All of this over the accords?"

"I know it sounds strange."

"The government is strange." The nurse agreed firmly. There was a pause. "They're got strange people working for them – madmen who think they know everything there is to know about the way the world works." She huffed and shook her head dismissively, "They think they're always right, too."

"Something tells me you're indifferent to them."

"Not just indifferent – indignant. I've got a good reason to be."

"They did something to you."

"To my husband..." The nurse's voice trailed off and her eyes softened, "Well, I guess now he'd be my late husband."

Natasha's heart sunk. What did they do to him... to you?

"I lost him a few years ago, in 2008. He worked for Ross when Ross worked for the military... He died in a helicopter crash amidst a fight against the Hulk." She explained. Natasha tensed at the name.

"Ross ordered the pilot to fire at it and, next thing you know, the helicopter was brought down by a big chunk of scrap metal from one of their armored vehicles. I saw it on YouTube." She chortled sadly, "'Cause that's the perfect way to find out that your lover died..."

     And before Natasha knew it, tears were welling up in the nurse's eyes. "I didn't even get to say goodbye... Didn't get to tell him I loved him that morning. And I haven't had the chance to since. And you'd think that a grieving widow would take her anger out on the thing that attacked her husband but no... No I'm not mad at Bruce Banner. He can't control what he is any more than people like us can control a cold... I'm mad at Ross. Ross was the one who killed him. Ross gave the call to shoot at Banner – to try and fight a beast he knew they couldn't control. Because of Ross, I've had to take care of my now eight-year-old son all by myself."

Natasha felt her emotions dropping. This woman hated Ross even more than she did – and she had more than every right to.

"He was just a baby when his daddy died." The woman continued, "Could you imagine being that young and having to grow up without a father? Especially in the world we live in today?"

Natasha's eyes softened, "Unfortunately I can... I did. I'm so sorry about your husband." She said, and she had never been so sincere to someone she had never met before.

"Don't be. He's already dead... there's nothing I can do to save him." Then, her teary eyes cleared ever so slightly as she explained, "But, if I can save someone just like him – like that young man, Steve Rogers, for instance – then maybe it's almost like I'm saving my husband for real... like it's a close second."

"Is that why you're helping us?"

"That's why I help, period."

Natasha shook her head, "I can't thank you enough for that."

"You don't have to. Seeing him walk tomorrow will be 'thank you' enough."

"But I have to make you consider what you're doing."

The nurse raised her eyebrow.

"We're still fugitives from Ross," Natasha explained. "If they come for us, they'll come for you too – if they find out you've helped us."

The nurse furrowed her brows sarcastically, "Sweetheart, I kind of pieced that together myself when I found you hiding in the closet."

"But are you really willing to put yourself in danger for someone you don't know?"

"Are you?"

The next morning was smoother than the night before. It was 7:21am and Steve was groggy, but awake. The nurse had brought him some scrambled eggs, bacon, and toast on a tray – which of course, he ate through quickly. Natasha was offered some cereal, but she declined; settling for nothing instead.

And for a while, they talked – Steve, Natasha, and the nurse; whose name turned out to be Deandra, 'Dee' for short. Steve and Natasha talked amongst her as if they were friends rather than strangers, which somehow eased a lot of the stress on both of their shoulders.

Until it was time for Steve to stand up, that is.

Dee was on his left side with her right hand pressed against his shoulder blade and her left hand against his chest as she prepped him. She could sense the tension throughout his body and tightened her grip. "Alright, I'm gonna sit you up slowly and you tell me if you feel any pain." Steve nodded and braced for the pain that he was sure to hit him, releasing a soft groan under his breath as she helped sit him upwards and face him towards the side of the bed.

"Pain?" Dee asked.

Steve exhaled and nodded his head in approval, "It's sore, but it's bearable."

"Is that good?" Natasha asked, looking across at Deandra.

"Considering most patients in recovery would need two to three days tops before they could even shift in their bed, I'd say this is great." She assured her, earning a smile of relief.

"Alright, now if I could get you to stand on that side of him, Miss Romanoff," she urged, sending Natasha over to the other side of Steve where she mimicked her hand placements on his body, and directed her words back to Steve, "We're gonna help you onto your feet on the count of three, okay?"

"Okay." He agreed, holding his breath.

"Ready?" Dee asked Natasha, who nodded in return, and began the count... "One... two...three."

On three, they raised him onto his feet. He grunted, and seemed out of breath by the time he was up straight.

"Pain?"

"Did not feel good, no."

Natasha's expression tightened with worry and she looked up at him. "Would you be able to walk like this?"

Steve's eyes widened and he blinked, tilting his head in doubt, "I can try."

Dee rubbed his back and assured him, "We'll try, okay? We've got you supported on both sides, but you're gonna have to move your own legs. Take it slowly; one small step at a time, alright?"

"Alright."

"Try when you're ready."

Steve paused, inhaled a deep gulp of oxygen, and took a step forward.

"Slow..." she reminded him. He took another step, this time slower, and then another... and another... and another, all at the same slow pace. He didn't even flinch.

"Good, good... pain?"

"Hardly."

"Was that sarcasm?"

"No, I mean really. I didn't feel anything."

"Okay then, great. Now try to walk to the door and back – we'll still be right next to you. Walk when you're ready."

Steve didn't wait. He tried to walk to the door at a normal pace, but he was quickly stopped by both Deandra and Natasha. "Take your time..." she reminded him, "Be careful on your body."

He kept walking, each step becoming more and more consistent, and he made it all the way to the door on the other side of the room with Nat and the nurse's help. They helped turn him around to face the other way.

"Can you make it back?" Natasha questioned.

"I think so." He nodded.

With their assistance, he traveled back to his bed at a pace closer to normal. Natasha patted his back and gave him a half-hug around his shoulder as all three of them smiled.

"Good job. This is great." Dee applauded him.

"You're doing great." Natasha agreed, looking up at him with bright eyes.

"Do you still need our help or do you think you can try standing up on your own for a minute?"

Steve looked at the two of them with uncertainty, but then he considered it. After a slight pause, he nodded his head, "I want to try."

Natasha gave the nurse a curious look and sighed. Dee nodded at her, then at Steve. "Okay. We're gonna let go on the count of three – one... two... three."

Dee and Natasha removed their hands from Steve's body and slowly backed away as he steadied himself – fighting to keep his balance.

"Pain?"

"No."

"Try turning around in a circle."

Steve almost chuckled as he slowly wobbled around in a circle around himself. He faced the door.

"Good. Now try taking a couple steps – carefully."

Steve stood in the same spot for a moment before finally deciding to move his legs. At first he felt pressure on his lower body, but it quickly vanished as he continued to move forward. He felt nothing or at least next to nothing, and it made him feel so much better.

"Do you think he can try walking to the door and back by himself?" Natasha asked Deandra quietly.

Dee turned to Steve, "Do you think you could?"

Steve walked at a normal pace to the door by himself, feeling a couple pinpricks of pain every occasional step, but nothing he couldn't handle. And on his walk back to the bed, he traveled as if nothing was wrong with him in the first place.

"Pain?" The nurse still asked, this time with a smile, as she knew his answer would be a 'No.'

"I think I'm okay now." He assured.

"So you can walk just fine?"

"Looks like it."

"Alright then!" she cheered, giving Natasha a quick high five and earning a laugh in response. "But just to be safe, let's go out into the hallway and try some quick exercises – get you walking longer distances before I release you into the wild."

"Okay," Steve laughed, walking towards the door. Natasha caught up to him and patted him on his shoulder with a smile and for some odd reason... she felt that maybe this time, after they left the hospital to get their friends back... Ross wouldn't know what hit him.

Steve and Natasha were in the hospital cafeteria mid-conversation while eating their lunch. While Steve being able to walk freely and smoothly again was deserved to be celebrated, there were more important matters they needed to touch upon first – i.e. how they planned to retrieve their teammates.

Natasha tapped her foot against the floor and focused on Steve after taking a sip of her cup of water. "I think we should go back to the base in Waco to grab our gear. We don't want to walk in unarmed this time. Besides, I feel naked fighting without the catsuit on anyways."

"So we get our suits, our gear... what else?" Steve asked.

"We should ask Maria for extra help. I don't think that two people walking in to fight a war is that intimidating." She pointed out, cocking her eyebrow upward in partner with her sarcastic smirk.

Steve nodded, "And they could be of extra help looking for the others. The more bodies we have searching for them inside, the better chances we'll have of finding them and the faster we can get out."

"How are we gonna get out?" Natasha questioned, scooting her plate of food off to the side. "We can't leave the jet unattended. We can't even leave it anywhere near the prison, now that I think about it."

"We'll have Maria hover around the place until we give the O.K to fly by and get us out."

"No. Too many things could go wrong with that." Natasha shook her head in strong disagreement.

"It's the best option we've got."

She sighed, taking time to think about their other options, and Steve was right – they didn't really have any very many others. She looked at him, "We'll need to have full contact with her at all times, not just us, but every SHIELD agent we decide to bring with us."

"Okay. You want full contact? We'll get full contact. You know Maria. And you know SHIELD. They've got the technology."

"I'm just worried they don't have the will."

Steve raised his eyebrows, "So know your trust in the other agents is shaken? Wow."

Natasha glared at him. "My trust in everyone is a little shaken right now."

"Relax. They'll help us. I know they will."

"How can you be so sure?"

"Because their lives depend on it just as much as ours do."