Prologue

     Tony,

     I'm glad you're back at the compound; I don't like the idea of you rattling around a mansion by yourself...

     "About damn time." Sam remarked, arms crossed below his breastbone. He flashed a teasing grin. And although it hadn't been too long since Steve had seen it worn proudly across his lips like a shade of lipstick, it felt as though he hadn't seen it in ages.

     Steve huffed a short laugh from the opposite side of Sam's cell bars, "This is cozy." The room was shaped like a disc with six large cells aligning the outermost circle, facing inward. Each cell had a twin sized mattress with white sheets and pillows, paired with a steel frame, and a metal stool in the corner closest to the bars. 

     "Hospitality doesn't quite serve in Ross' best interests." 

     "Or any government officials', for that matter," a voice jested from the darkness. 

     Sam looked beyond Steve to see Natasha Romanoff emerge into the faint light with her eyebrows raised. "Look who decided to join the party," he said. Sarcastic emphasis on "party." 

     "I'm just visiting." Natasha quipped.

     Sam rolled his eyes. "Ha, ha – jokes – do you mind getting to it?" he asked. He patted the bars to his cell, trailing his hands along the metal as he pressed on in a ramble."And just out of curiosity, how'd the two of you slip in unnoticed? What, with the entire place under--"

     Natasha interrupted to finish Sam's sentence, and the two of them said simultaneously, "Twenty-four hour surveillance." He stopped speaking, amused and not at all surprised that she was already one step ahead.

     "I may have 'borrowed' some Tony-tech on the way here," Natasha hinted. 

     After her confrontation with Stark at the Compound, Natasha disappeared from the grid for some time to regroup and to sort things out - with Tony's threat deeming it even more so necessary for to remove herself from the picture until further notice. During that time, she thought about Steve and Bucky and how she had helped them escape to wherever. I did the right thing, she told herself, no matter how many times outside forces prompted her to believe otherwise.

     But Natasha worried about the duo, Steve and Bucky, and knowing that Cap's team had been sentenced to time in jail for their actions brought guilt upon her morals. She knew where the prison facility was located. It took time, but Natasha soon forced herself to admit that she and Tony no longer shared a unified perspective on the Sokovia Accords or the airport brawl that took place in its response. It was around such a time that she extended her help to Steve.

     Nothing had changed in the way the two of them worked together once reunited. She and Steve worked efficiently as always and were conscious of the repercussions they would face if the jail-break went south. Nevertheless, if there was one thing Natasha had learned about Steve in their partnership, it was that he doesn't abandon or give up on his friends. This was something that she she initially found overrated, but grew to strongly admire about him after seeing that it made him not only a reliable partner to work with but also a loyal friend to lean on in distress. It's why she worked so well with him rather than other agents. 

     Playing to her strengths, Natasha stopped by Stark Industry's and "borrowed" (a.k.a "stole") a few helpful items from Tony's desk-drawer in his office along with some remains of SHIELD tools. After all, Stark was, if nothing else, a genius-billionaire. 

     "How 'bout that?" came a voice from behind. The three of them; Natasha, Steve, and Sam, turned their heads. Clint Barton had his body pressed against his cell bars, his interest peaked. 

     Natasha, although feeling unmeasurably relieved to see him, refused to show warm emotion and covered her relief with her trademark sardonic smile. She rubbed her hands together and paced over to his cell, placing her arms flat on the surface of one of the bars and lowering her head on top of them. "We're still friends, right?" She asked.

     Clint sized her up and down before dramatically turning his back to her, hands in his pockets. "I don't know, Nat..." his voice drifted, "You hit me pretty hard..."

     She rolled her eyes. "You could've hit harder if you hadn't pulled your punches." 

     "What I think you meant to say was, 'thank you, Clint, for keeping my bruises to a minimal.' Oh, you're so welcome, Natasha! Anything for a friend," He teased, earning a smile from her in return. With that, she straightened up, turned on her heel, and rejoined Steve and Sam in the center of the floor.

     "Alright, Nat," Steve prepped, rubbing his knuckles which were still sore from Siberia, "You got a plan?"

     She half-smiled and brushed past him. "Don't I always?"

     We all need family. The Avengers are yours, maybe more so than mine. I've been on my own since I was eighteen. I never really fit in anywhere—even in the army. My faith is in—people—I guess; individuals. And I'm happy to say that for the most part, they haven't let me down... which is why I can't let them down either.

     Natasha pulled the MAG-234, one of the few devices she borrowed (stole) from Tony's drawer, from her travel-sized black duffle-bag and held it for everyone to see before loading and unloading it for visual aid. "This is the MAG-234.  S.H.I.E.L.D. developed it last year after Ultron was flushed out of the web and off the face of the earth. You pull the trigger, and instead of shooting a bullet, it creates a matter-altering mist that turns any solid substance it touches into a vapor." She explained.

     "Is that how you plan to get us out of here?" Sam questioned.

     For dramatic emphasis, Natasha cocked the gun and pointed it in his direction. She tilted her head, gesturing for him to move. "Out of the way."

     He didn't hesitate. Sam moved swiftly to press his back to the left wall and held his breath. You know. As a precaution in case the mist was toxic. Natasha tightened her hand on the grip of the gun before pulling the trigger. A puff of mist shot out from the barrel. Within a few minutes of reaching the bars, there was a cloud of gas floating upwards to reveal a giant, gaping hole in the bars large enough for Sam to crawl through.

     Locks can be replaced, but—

     "Damn," Sam observed in approval, "not bad."

     —Maybe they shouldn't.

     Natasha scoffed, "Come on." She reached through the hole and yanked Sam by his forearm, prying him out of the confined cell.

     Steve stood in the center of the floor, surprised that the MAG-234 worked as well as it did although his body language did not express it. "Alright, who's next?" He asked around the room.

     Natasha made direct eye contact with Clint, who sat patiently on his mattress whilst twiddling his thumbs. She beat the barrel of the gun softly against the palm of her hand as she approached his cell. "Your turn," she taunted. 

     "Yes ma'am," Clint complied. He climbed on top of his mattress and bounced over towards the wall. Natasha pulled the trigger.

     Moments later, Clint examined the hole in the wall. "Nice." Without assistance, he climbed through the gap leftover in the bars and followed Natasha to the center.

     "My turn now?" a voice pleaded. In the corner cell stood Scott Lang, the newest edition to the team, with his face pressed against the bars.

     Natasha looked to Sam and Clint--who rolled their eyes exhaustedly and shifted their stance; and then she looked to Steve--who nodded in approval. Disregarding her incertitude, she looked back at the man behind the bars and shrugged, "Sure, yeah, okay."

     Scott did a little happy dance and marched over to the side of the wall, waiting anxiously for Natasha to pull the trigger and bail him out. 

     As she held out her arm and pointed the gun to the bars, Steve stopped her.

     Steve scanned the ring of cells around him and noticed very quickly that something or, rather, someone was missing. He leaned into Sam and whispered, "Where's Wanda?"

     "I never saw them bring her in." He failed to recall, whispering back.

     "No, I watched them take her," Clint interrupted--his voice loud in clear so that Natasha could hear. Natasha froze with her arm held out towards Scott and turned over her shoulder, listening.

     She lowered the gun. "What's wrong, guys?" 

     Steve looked at her. She could read him like a book. His body was now tense and the muscles in his face posed a concerned look. "Wanda's unaccounted for..." He explained, then turned to Clint, "Barton, you said you saw them take her?"

     "I didn't exactly see where. But she was on the same jet the rest of us were." He answered.

     "That makes no sense," Natasha pondered, "Why would they put all of you together but exclude her? There are at least three more cells in this ring with nobody in them." She shook her head.

     "Hey, not to nag, but how about you make that four cells and use your fancy steamer to get me out?" Scott proposed.

     Steve exhaled, "Nat—get him out."

     Natasha nodded and turned to face Scott. She stretched her good arm completely out and pointed the MAG-234 directly at him. "I'd move out of the way if I were you," she suggested. Her eyes narrowed for emphasis.

     Scott dashed out of range; Natasha released her finger from the trigger and the mist spewed out. Once the gas disappeared the hole remained, Scott leaped out. "Thank you," he said.

     "Mmhm." Natasha hummed, tossing the gun into her bag and shoving her hands in her pockets. She brushed up close to Steve and asked quietly, "Who's the new guy?"

     "Scott Lang. You met him at the airport." He reminded her.

     "Was he the tiny guy who got big, like, halfway through? In the red astronaut suit?"

     "Yeah, that's the one."

     "Oh. Nice." Natasha said. She continued, "What's your plan now?"

     "I thought you were the one with the plans." Steve mocked.

     "First time for everything. I'm open to suggestions."

     Steve opened his mouth to speak, but found himself at a loss. In all honesty, he wasn't sure what to do. He wasn't sure where Ross' men had taken Wanda or why. H wasn't sure if she was being kept in a cell much worse than he saw before him. He wasn't even sure if he and Natasha had slipped into the facility unnoticed. His thoughts began spiraling. 

     Since her coming to live in America and joining the Avengers, Steve had always felt like Wanda was his responsibility. He felt that the burden of watching after her like family rested on his shoulders—because as far as he was concerned, it did.

     Steve understood Wanda. Both of them never really had much family growing up; the both of them had volunteered to be experimented on for reasons larger than them. If it were anyone's responsibility to care for her, it were definitely his.

"Well," Scott began, "There's five of us right now, so we could split up and search the facility—three go one way, the remaining two go the other."

"I'd rather we not split up like that. I don't want to risk anybody getting caught and thrown back in a cell a second time." Steve explained.

"Okay, well, it's not entirely a bad idea. Bucky's waiting at the top with the jet ready—why don't the three of them go to him and you and I can look for Wanda?" Natasha suggested.

"Natasha," Steve lowered his voice, looking to the floor and pinching the bridge of his nose between his fingers, "What if they get caught on the way up there and we're too far to reach them? What if we get caught down here?"

Natasha hesitated, but then she sighed, "We could stay behind."

Everyone's head popped up from looking down at the floor and stared at her.

"Seriously?" Sam asked with his arms crossed. Natasha looked around. She exhaled in frustration and grabbed Steve's arm; pulling him over to the side to talk.

"We stay behind?" He whispered in question.

"It's not a go-to option, it's a last-resort—if something happens and we can't make it to the top in time."

Steve clenched his jaw and sighed sharply; almost in irritation.

     "Look," she began, "I know you feel that whatever happens to these people is your fault—I feel it too, but what happens if we can't get Wanda out in time and Ross' men figure out that they're at the top waiting for us? We can't just allow them to stay put and wait for us to come if we can't get up there in time."

Steve's face relaxed and he met Natasha's eyes before sighing. She continued, "I know it's not the best idea in the world... but it's safe for them. It's better if only we stay behind than if everyone stays behind." Natasha explained.

"I know." Steve whispered softly, "You're right."

"Besides," Natasha and Steve both turned their heads to look at the team in the center, "It's only if something goes wrong."

Steve nodded. Natasha patted him on the back and half-smiled, then the two of them paced forward and re-joined the rest of the team to explain. She grabbed her bag and pulled out five tiny earpieces before tossing one to Sam, then to Scott, and then to Clint. "Alright, put these on."

The three of them nodded and placed the tiny devices inside their ears and turned them on. Steve explained, "Bucky is waiting at the top of the facility with a jet ready to take off on cue."

Natasha pitched in, "The three of you are going to carefully make your way to the top to join him. Try not to draw any attention to yourselves."

Steve nodded. "We'll communicate through the earpieces Natasha just gave you. If anything happens on our end and we signal you to take off, you take off. If anything happens on your end and you know there's no time to wait for us, again, you take off."

"Signal us and if we have Wanda, we'll try our best to get up there as soon as possible, but if you all feel like you need to get out of here, do so." Natasha ordered, "Don't wait up."

The three of them nodded, but Clint's face sank, "Nat..." He trailed.

"Don't wait up." She choked. Clint sighed and lowered his head, but he agreed.

"Alright... go." Natasha urged. And with that, the three of them forced themselves out of the ring and disappeared around the corner.

She turned to Steve and met his gaze before speaking, "You ready?"

He nodded and half-smiled, "Let's go find Wanda."

Natasha grabbed her duffle-bag and the two of them took off around the corner. They began to make their way up the stairs to the control room where all the security panels were located. Natasha had visited this place on more than one occasion due to her work with SHIELD, so she knew her way around. One of the many things she knew was that, because the facility is stranded in the middle of the Pacific, the signal can come and go from time to time. Last time she was here, the connection to the security cameras in the control room went out twice. Normally, if the signal is lost, it's lost for between two to ten minutes tops. After ten minutes, the men working in the control room go downstairs to the electrical boxes to look at things and fix the problem if there is one. There's always three men in the control room, when this happens – two of the men go to check things out while the other man always stays behind.

"Well, it's been roughly ten minutes," Natasha whispered while checking her watch, "So the guys in the control room should be leaving to go look at the electrical box right about..." two semi-bulky men walked out from the doors to the control room and turned the corner, small-talking the entire way down. Satisfied, Natasha finished, "... now."

Steve pulled the ML-20 out of Natasha's bag. "What are you doing?" she asked as he stood up with the gun in his hand.

"Ten bucks says the guy in the room is scrawny and unarmed," he said as he reached his arm down for Natasha to grab. He pulled her to her feet and motioned to the room—where he made quite an entrance.

He opened the doors casually. Natasha smirked because just as Steve had predicted, the man sitting at the control panel was thin as a rake and completely unarmed; no visible guns, no Tasers in his pocket or on the table...

Okay... what are you planning to do, Rogers? Natasha thought.

The scrawny man in the chair didn't turn around or even look back, but instead assumed the other guys had come back and began to talk, "Back so soon?" he chuckled, "Well, if you're planning on saying 'the problem's fixed, man,' then we've got another problem because the original problem is certainly not—" the man swiveled casually around in his chair to face his two friends, but instead faced Natasha and Steve—who had a gun pointed at his face. He gulped, "—fixed..."

Natasha followed the man's eyes to the walkie-talkie on the opposite side of the table and as he began to reach frantically for it, Natasha leaped over and kicked his chair out from underneath him; causing him to fall flat on his tailbone. With that, she swiped the walkie-talkie from its spot on the table and clutched it tight in her hands. The man moaned from the floor; a moan of pain, shock, and confusion.

Natasha took out the "Tony-tech" from her bag and flicked a few switches on it; re-rendering the viewing-screens and the security cameras of their use. She nodded at Steve and crossed her arms.

Steve tossed the gun to Natasha and grabbed the man by his shirt. They were nose-to-nose as Steve demanded, "Where are you holding Wanda Maximoff?"

The man looked like a deer caught in the headlights and his voice shook through his works, "I... I don't know... who that is!" He closed his eyes and turned his head; scared half-to-death.

Steve didn't count out the fact that maybe this man actually didn't know who she was, but that didn't stop him from getting an answer. He yanked the man up off the floor by his shirt and turned him forcefully to face the screens. He observed all of them before pointing to the one with Wanda on it.

"Where is this cell located?" He asked aggressively.

"This one?" The man asked pointing to the screen, still shaking. He adjusted his glasses on his face and gasped, "Okay! That cell is... on the... first floor... second hallway to your left... cell... A47!"

Steve let go of the man's shirt and looked at Natasha. Before he had a chance to object, Natasha roundhouse kicked the man right across his face; leaving him unconscious with an imprint of Natasha's boot on his right cheek. She smirked at the mark she had left on the man's face, and then she turned on her heel, swiped her bag from the floor, and dragged Steve out of the room. "You owe me ten bucks," Steve reminded her.

"I'm not giving you ten bucks." Natasha assured.

~~~

"A47..." Steve repeated on their walk down to the first floor. "Second hallway to the right..."

When they reached her cell room, Natasha jumped and reached into her bag; grabbing the 'tony-tech' and turning off the cameras. "We need to do this fast, it's a long walk from the first floor back up to the fourth but as soon as the other guys get there, they're going to set off an alarm."

"Wait, how do you know?" Steve asked.

"A, it's common-sense—there's an unconscious man on the floor with a boot mark on his face. B, one of the trips I took here was during their emergency protocol sessions—the alarm was one of them." Natasha assured.

"Do you think an alarm will go off if we tamper with the door while it's locked? This is a completely different cell used for completely different  reasons—"

"—I think we'll be fine." Natasha aimed the gun at the metal door.

"And if we're not?" Steve asked. Natasha lowered her gun.

A couple moments passed before she raised her gun, loaded it, and answered "Try to run faster than the security guards."

     The trigger was pulled and once more, the mist was sprayed all around the door. Once the hole was formed, Steve and Natasha exchanged a look, nodded, and leaped through to the other side. What they found on the other side was not what they wished to.

Wanda had been strapped into a straitjacket. Her ankles were cuffed with steel to the floor of her cell. And to top it off, she wore an electroshock collar around her neck.

Natasha covered her mouth, "Jesus."

They were horrified. What did she do to deserve this? Steve thought. Wanda didn't speak, she didn't even turn her head. She couldn't, or she'd zapped with electricity of Lord knows how much. But her eyes shifted to the side to see them.

"Hey, Wanda," Steve softened as he approached her, "We're gonna get you out of here." The closer Steve got to her cell bars, the more he realized that the bars were lined with a glowing red. It was hot; radiating an extreme heat the closer he got.

     Wanda's eyes grew bigger and she grunted in attempts to not shake her head. Steve misread her actions and came closer to comfort her, "Wanda, you're going to be alright—" he extended his hand to clamp around the bars.

Wanda yelped and twisted her neck.

"No! Don't touch the bars!" She cried and Steve jumped back. Wanda yanked her head back to the center. She screamed.

Steve watched the electricity from the collar strike against her neck. A chill traveled down Natasha's spine as the scene unraveled. Tears flooded Wanda's eyes and she clamped them shut, gasping heavily for air as the pain traveled through the rest of her body. When the shocks went away, she didn't move—she was too afraid. She just kept her eyes shut and tried to ignore the pain that she could still feel from deep within her core.

It took both Steve and Natasha a moment to take in what had just happened.

"Holy shit," Natasha gasped and ran up to the side of the bar with the ML-20 and stood to the side. Steve stepped off to the side—eyes wide with shock.

Natasha examined the bars for a moment. The glowing red doubled as an electroshock collar for the cell. "I'm not sure if this will work or not..." Natasha loaded the gun and pointed it at the bars, "but..." she pulled the trigger. The mist reached the red, wrapping itself around it, and traveled down every last inch. Natasha gazed as the mist devoured the red and in a matter of moments, it was gone.

Both of them gasped with relief. "Okay... no more red." Natasha exhaled; joyful that it had been as easy as that.

Steve ran up to the bars and wrapped his hand around one of them. He pressed his face against it and softened, "You're gonna be okay, Wanda. Hang in there." She couldn't move any part of her body in fear of being shocked again, but Steve swore he saw the ends of her lips curl upwards slightly in a smile. He lowered his head, "Can you get the bars?" he asked and turned to Natasha.

Natasha loaded the gun once more, "Let's find out." She aimed the gun away from Wanda and sprayed the mist from the gun. Hopefully that it would work as it always had, she waited for the mist to create a hole in the bars. After a few seconds, the mist cloud disappeared... but the cell bars didn't.

Natasha was dumbfounded, "No..." she whispered, "No!"

Wanda closed her eyes and tried not to move. Steve saw a tear trickled down her cheek.

Natasha was unable to function. She felt like she had let everyone down. In a few moments, Ross' men would come and set off an alarm, and then all three of them would be locked up. This is my fault, she thought; even though deep down she knew it wasn't. Her eyes watered, "I..." she began, "I'm... so sorry, Wanda..." she fought the urge to cry. Steve rushed to her, stroking her arm.

"It's not your fault, Nat." He whispered.

"I mean... I know, but—"

"Natasha," Steve interrupted, gripping her arm tighter.

"What?" she looked at him and he looked up at the bars. Natasha followed his eyes and looked at the bars, and what she saw rendered her speechless.

Small puffs of gas began to rise from the bars, like it did the others. As the gas rose, the bars became smaller. They watched in amazement, and once all the gas stopped rising and disappeared from their view... a hole was formed in the bars. Natasha leaned back and gasped.

"You're right—it's all your fault." Steve teased and ran over to the hole. Natasha chuckled slightly and watched him go before joining him inside.

Steve bent down on a knee to examine the collar around her neck and then he exhaled, "There's no off-switch." Wanda lowered her eyes.

Natasha paused, "Okay then... what do we do?"

Steve sighed, "We're gonna have to take it off while it's still on... there's a clamp in the back."

"Won't that hurt her!?" Natasha raised her voice.

"You got any better ideas, Natasha?!" Steve turned to her—his expression and tone a mixture of anger and fear.

Natasha sighed, stepping back and gesturing for Steve to continue. He turned to Wanda. "Alright, I'm gonna try and do this as fast as I can. I'm gonna un-clamp the latch in the back and then I'm gonna pull it off, okay?"

Wanda blinked knowingly.

"Okay—one.." he wrapped his hands around her neck to reach the clamp, "two..." Wanda held her breath, "...three."

     Quickly, he undid the latch. He felt the heat and electricity developing inside the collar and before it had a chance to zap her or himself, he flung it across the room. The electricity pulsed around it as it landed on the floor, and they watched breathlessly as it stopped.

Wanda exhaled sharply and hunched over with a loud cough. Gasping, she rested her head against Steve's shoulder. He hesitated for a mere second, but then he wrapped his arms around her. She began to cry.

Steve rubbed her back. Natasha rushed over and got down on her knees. Wanda looked up and leaned towards Natasha as she extended her arms to hug her.

"I'm so sorry, Wanda..." Natasha apologized in their embrace.

Wanda shook her head, "No. It's not your fault... Thank you for coming back." She sobbed and lifted her face to see her. Steve helped remove the straitjacket from her body while Natasha removed the cuffs from her ankles with a bobby-pin.

"Alright, we've got to go now." Natasha explained. Her and Steve helped Wanda to her feet. She wobbled.

"Can you walk?" Steve asked with one hand on her back.

     Wanda nodded, "Yes."

"Okay... can you run?" Natasha asked.

     Wanda looked at her confused and paused, "What?"

"I'm taking that as a yes—let's go." Natasha pulled on her arm and Steve kept his hand on Wanda's back as they hopped out the hole in the door. Natasha paced to the end of the hall to see if the coast was clear, and then she urged them to follow.

I know I hurt you, Tony. I guess I thought—by not telling you about your parents I was sparing you, but... I can see now I was really sparing myself. I'm sorry. Hopefully one day you can understand.

They walked casually and with caution to the stairs on the other side of the floor; trying to avoid drawing attention to themselves. Natasha kept a close eye on their forward surroundings while Steve kept watch behind them. Wanda stayed low in between them.

I wish we agreed on the Accords, I really do. I know you were only doing what you believe in, and that's all any of us can do, it's all any of us should.

They made it to the top of the prison without being spotted. A couple steps away sat a jet with Sam, Clint, & Scott inside and Bucky at the pilot's seat waiting patiently and hopefully for them to arrive. 

So no matter what, I promise if you...

They inhaled and walked over to the jet in the same formation they'd kept the entire walk up. They loaded Wanda onto the jet and waited for her to get strapped into her seat. Natasha followed behind her, and then Steve. The platform to the jet closed and Clint turned to them.

If you need us—if you need me...

"Aww," he whined, "we were hoping we'd get to leave without you."

I'll be there.