Hollow Scars

Brilliant white stars reflected off the surface of the Seine as she strolled across the Pont de Grenelle, a bridge that crossed the river only a few mere blocks away from the Eiffel Tower. Usually illuminated like a beacon, tonight the tower stood as brilliant as ever and yet the light somehow didn’t obscure the view of the stars that twinkled on the water as if to wink and brag about the secrets they’d never share.

Paris was magnificent at night. It almost felt like a dream.

Usually teaming with cars and tourists, the bridge was empty at this late hour but the haunting presence of those who loved the city as much as she did left it feeling warm and inviting and not the least bit lonely. Scarlett leaned on the railing at the end of the bridge and looked down at the water. Her reflection stared back at her, healthy and happy with her curls neatly falling over one shoulder, her silver and blue dress glittering just like the stars above. Below was the Île aux Cygnes, an artificial island built in the river some time ago. It was lined with colorful trees fully in bloom where several birds beyond sight chirped while hunting for a late night snack.

She just barely caught glimpse of the Statue of Liberty replica that faced away from the Eiffel tower in the east and smiled. Was there any place greater than Paris? Perhaps only Paris in the rain, carrying a fresh loaf of bread from the market on the way back to her flat. It was a pipe dream Scarlett had always had. The one source of comfort she’d always clung onto in hopes of a peaceful happy future. In her teenage years her first love had promised her a trip to Paris and ever since then it’d been a symbol of a better life to her.

The once place she never went was the one place that gave her renewed faith that the world could be okay again, at least for her. Even during the worst of times, when she was sure she would find her end she could close her eyes and picture Paris and calm her thoughts. She’d never been there before but had spent many foolish hours during her college years, between exams and partying, pouring over maps of the city of dreams. It was a completely absurd romantic ideal to be as in love with Paris as Scarlett was.

But it wasn’t just the city she loved; it wasn’t just that it was the city of love even. It was the artistic history of Paris that made it such a fantasy for her. Of course the wine and food definitely didn’t hurt or the beauty of the French language. When Scarlett closed her eyes she could picture F. Scott Fitzgerald taking the love of his life, Zelda, for walks through the square and imagining up the world of his next novel.

Scarlett was more of a literary buff than she ever cared to admit. Now she walked toward the lights of the tower that beckoned her ever closer, over the bridge and east along the Quai de Grenelle. The city was seemingly teaming with life, but none that she could actually see save for the black birds below still on the artificial island.

What was wrong? Where was everyone?

Then the cold came and silence fell.

Her arms broke into goose bumps and she shivered from head to toe. Folding her arms over her chest Scarlett felt pain rush through her left arm and gripped at the sore bicep in hopes of stifling the ache. Where had it come from? Withdrawing her hand from the painful spot on her arm she saw blood. Upon further inspection Scarlett found gauze wrapped around her arm over a wound that had long dripped through it.

In the distance to the west lights suddenly died in the city, the sound of that much power draining all at once giving her the shivers down her spine.

Even Paris wasn’t safe.

The lights in the distance continued to die, faster and faster. Darkness rushed toward her and Scarlett somehow knew that the darkness would bring her somewhere incredibly unpleasant. Urgently, she continued down the Quai de Grenelle until the base of the Eiffel Tower stood in front of her. By the time she got there her head was pounding and she was wheezing from the effort of running. Sickness had crept over her and in such a short time! The lights of the Eiffel Tower shone bright above her, giving her hope that things could change.

“Scarlett…” A faint voice from somewhere in the darkness called out to her. She recognized the voice but couldn’t quite recall why. It left her feeling sad so she backed up toward the tower, seeking refuge. But as she drew closer, a second voice from within the shadows on the other side of the tower called to her.

“Don’t be afraid.” This voice was one she’d never heard before. Suddenly something struck her hard in the chest and she fell! On her back, in the grass of the Champs de Mars, she stared mouth agape at the Eiffel Tower overhead. Storm clouds obstructed the stars, and the lights at the very top of the monument flickered.

Then they died.

“Scarlett! Please get up!” Tony feebly fought with the bonds on his wrists and ankles, trying frantically to get to the limp form of the woman lying with her eyes closed on the floor of the prison cell nearby. He couldn’t see a pool of blood on the floor beneath her but she wasn’t responding and it was scaring the hell out of him.

She wasn’t supposed to get shot for him! That had never been part of the plan! No one was supposed to get shot. What had she been thinking? Jumping in the way like that to save his life! It was madness! “Scarlett!” He grunted and gave up on calling out to her while he instead struggled with his bonds.

His hands and feet were throbbing painfully. Now that the electrical torture had ended he had begun to feel the aftermath of it. Surely nerve damage would be the greatest of his worries, but for the time being his muscles were sore, spent and occasionally twitching. Try as he might, he couldn’t manage to get his wrists free and if he couldn’t do that then he couldn’t summon his armor either. It wouldn’t stop him from trying, no matter how aware he was that he would likely not be able to break himself free.

She’d been talking just fine after she’d first fallen to the ground but as he had tried to get her attention and ask if she was alright, she’d drifted off and disappeared. At first she’d just stared at the ceiling and then closed her eyes like she was going to sleep. It was an image that would haunt Tony for the rest of his days if she never woke back up. He’d seen people die before, but he’d never seen anyone die for him, not since Yinsen and his time in captivity. And yet he somehow knew that Scarlett wasn’t dead, just suffering. Try as he might, Tony couldn’t seem to break free of the bonds that held him captive.

As Scarlett lay unconscious and in pain on the ground, Tony sat there helpless to do anything but stare and yell in hopes of waking her up with just the sound of his voice. He had never felt more out of control in his life. If ever he had needed to be able to spring into action, it had been in that moment but naturally it was the one time he couldn’t. He’d sacrificed himself and for what? The woman he’d been fighting tooth and nail to save had been the one to save him in the end and the cost had been far too high.

Tony never would’ve asked her to do that for him. Ever.

But he guessed that she never would’ve asked him to trade his life for hers either and he would’ve been willing to.

Then Scarlett arched her back and coughed, blinking her eyes open and staring at the gloomy ceiling of the prison cell. For a brief moment she didn’t recognize where she was or why. But then the burning sensation in her chest both from the sickness she’d contracted and where she’d been struck by the bullet brought her blazing back to reality. Coughing and gagging, she rolled onto her side. Pain shot through her arm and she yelped, rolled onto her back and forced herself into a sitting position.

Coughing all the while, Scarlett found the Velcro straps of the bulletproof vest she wore and tugged them loose before throwing off the armor she’d donned while scouting the hallways earlier with Clint and Natasha. Rubbing at her chest, she pulled down the top of her tank to reveal a nasty red welt where the bullet had made contact with the armor and then had been forced against her chest. It had saved her from the bullet but not from the actual impact. The spot was already turning purple and blue, forming a bruise where she’d been struck. Surprisingly the paler tissue of the scarring that had formed on her chest thanks to Tony’s arc reactor practically glowed beneath the bruising.

Tony was at a loss for words. Part of him had been positive she was dead while the other more logical part of him saw she’d been wearing armor and that no blood had come from the wound. Once she had her wits about her Scarlett hobbled to her feet and made her way over to Tony. One by one she pulled the electrodes away from his skin.

He stared at her in disbelief, only making a few sounds of objection as the tape from the electrodes pulled at the hair on his skin. Scarlett crouched in front of him, coughing every so often beneath her breath while she worked to free him from his bonds. Tony watched her, both enamored and concerned. She was still sick after all this time.

But she was alive and that was what really mattered. He found his heart racing. It had been days since he’d seen her. Even in his thoughts she was being tortured and taunted by men like Scott and Barakat. It was a relief to see her breathing.

In those moments where she fought with bruised and bloodied fingers to try and break him free of his bonds Tony was reminded of how he’d found her broken and bloody in the desert sands of South Africa for the first time. Even then he’d known something was different about her but he would’ve never suspected what had actually come to be. Now he knew better.

“There.” Scarlett had no idea where to start. There were, of course, three hundred different things she wanted to say to Tony but none of those words seemed to be enough. Tony pulled his arms away from the chair and wiggled his wrists to celebrate his freedom. Every part of him was tingling and raw from the torture he’d been put through. As she was about to finally manage to say something, Tony placed his hands on her shoulders and pulled her close.

The familiar feeling of butterflies in her stomach caused her to hesitate, something that had only ever happened with Tony before. Just as he was about to make a move to pull her closer the earpiece Tony had been wearing began to screech and squeal, making his ear ring. Instinctively he grabbed it and threw it out of his ear, watching it skitter across the floor. Scarlett couldn’t help but laugh.

“Damnit! If it isn’t Pepper cock blocking me then it’s something else interrupting us…” Tony cursed but then turned his attention back to Scarlett who was looking at him sympathetically. He could see the gears turning behind her blue eyes again and somehow knew exactly what she was thinking about.

“Are you alright?” She placed her right hand on his cheek, partially to comfort him and partially to make sure he was real. For all she knew, he was part of another nightmare that she’d wake up from in another prison cell somewhere in the middle of nowhere. Scarlett had lost her grip on reality somewhere along the last two weeks and was searching for any validity that Tony was in fact, sitting in front of her with those familiar sparkling honey brown eyes. “What were you thinking?” Finally she retracted her hand and pushed her hair out of her face.

“Scarlett…” Tony, despite the seriousness of the situation, was smiling.

“Sacrificing yourself for me? You walked in here without your suit and… for what?”

“For you, I thought it was a romantic gesture. Everything I’ve seen in movies tells me it’s a romantic gesture.”

“You’re an idiot, you know that? What part of you dying for me is romantic?”

“You’re missing the important part. I didn’t die!” Tony laughed. Scarlett shook her head in dismay. She would’ve never forgiven herself if something had happened to him. Many things in Scarlett’s past had made her feel beyond redemption but she had learned to live with them. Tony dying? There was no way. She’d fought him tooth and nail every step of the way since they’d met.

“Don’t run off like that again,” she sighed at long last.

“Me? You’re lecturing me about running off?” Tony grabbed the arm that wasn’t bleeding and pulled her close. Before she could argue with him he pulled her into a kiss, the desperate kind of kiss that said more than what either one of them seemed to be able to find the words for. Tony had been terrified since he’d found out about Scott that she would fall prey to him and she had been just as terrified since she’d fallen in love in the first place that something from her lengthy past would come for them both.

And now with both of their fears being realized, there was something there in the kiss they shared that hadn’t been there before. What once had been love despite conflict was now gratitude to have something that they had once fought against. Scarlett had doubted that love was worth the struggle they’d inevitably go through but feeling again that gentle scrape of the scruff on Tony’s face brushing against her chin as their lips met, she knew that she would relive the last two weeks all over again if only to receive that same kiss.

She tasted like blood and sickness, but Tony had never savored a touch like that before in his life. In his fear, that brief flicker that she could’ve been dead on the floor, and all to save him, he had wished for one more kiss, one more touch, but knew now that one would never be enough. He’d always want more.

Before she’d realized it, Scarlett had moved closer and had wrapped her arms impulsively around his shoulders. It wasn’t passion or lust that had moved her to do it but the need to protect him and to feel that he was real in her arms. Desperation clung in her chest, made her eyes burn and ache in ways that she would’ve outright denied if Tony had bothered to point the moisture in them out. Everything she’d fought so hard to prevent had come to pass but somehow they’d both made it to the bitter end. There was still more of a battle to fight, but she wasn’t sure how much energy she had left to fight it.

Tony could feel the terror and emotion hidden beneath her grasp, beneath her kiss. His arms were aching, weak and he could barely feel the tips of his fingers, but he pulled her into his arms and held her tight against him anyway. Somehow he knew that she needed to know that he was still okay. Her hand placed flat against the exposed reactor in his chest, fingers clumsily brushing around the scar tissue that held it in place, examining it as thoroughly as she could. Tony picked up her hand and pulled reluctantly away from her lips.

“I’m okay, Scarlett.” Tony assured her, his voice low and serious. “I’m okay.” She hadn’t realized she’d been clutching at his hand until he squeezed hers back in response. Her body visibly relaxed with his reassurance and she exhaled deeply in response then nodded her head to let him know she believed him.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered.

“Don’t be. Honestly, it wasn’t that bad. I mean… yeah I’m tingling everywhere and not in a good way. Overall… he didn’t cut off any of my limbs and there was no bloodshed. I don’t think they really wanted to hurt me as much as they wanted to use me against you.” Tony wiggled each of his limbs as if to display that, yes, he was okay and each of his parts properly worked. Scarlett rolled her eyes but smiled but even that expression seemed strained.

“Oh yeah, just a bit of electrical torture. No big deal.” Scarlett didn’t stop feeling guilty simply because Tony had told her she shouldn’t. The human conscience didn’t work like that.

“I’ve seen worse.” Tony smirked confidently but then groaned and leaned his head back against the chair that had once been his prison. Out of the corner of his eye he caught sight of Mikhail’s body lying bloody behind him. “Can we not sit in here with this guy? That’s… that’s morbid. I mean I’m into some weird shit but this… this is not one of them.” Tony turned his gaze away and back to Scarlett who was also staring at the body of a man who had once scared the hell out of her. She half expected him to arise from the dead the way that Erick had and come after her just as ruthlessly.

But somehow she knew that Mikhail was too clever for that. He wasn’t going to alter his body or state of being for strength and power. That was why he controlled so many who had been willing to go under the knife. He was willing to sacrifice others to get the power that he craved but in the end he didn’t want to be one of the monsters that he spent his life creating.

“Scarlett?” Tony touched her shoulder and she jumped, blinking to break her gaze on the corpse. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I’m fine.” Scarlett got back to her feet. Now that she had found Tony, determination faded and her resilience had finally broken. She was exhausted. The job was far from done and she wasn’t sure she could keep going at the pace with which she’d raced down to find him. She’d found her breaking point and was pretty pleasantly surprised to find how long she could suffer and keep struggling. “Come on.” She offered Tony an arm to help him to his feet which he initially rejected.

But when he realized just how difficult it was to walk on almost completely numbed feet, Tony took the arm she offered. Scarlett stopped to retrieve the earpiece that Tony had earlier discarded then helped him out of the room and away from Mikhail’s corpse. He was slow to move and stiff. The further they walked through the hall, the slower he moved and the more his feet wobbled beneath him.

“I’m not so sure I’m going to make the trek out of here.” Tony finally grumbled in frustration, one hand against the wall and the other arm around Scarlett who was gritting her teeth to help support him. Much to her surprise, Tony led them through the hall and around the corner. He sat himself down on the floor and leaned against a nearby wall once he was sure that no one was there threatening them. Scarlett watched him sit down and looked behind her to the stairwell they’d have to climb in order to get out of the building. It would be too great a risk to bring him up two floors and then have to potentially fight their way through MedCo security to get out.

“I hate to tell you this but the building is rigged with explosives. MedCo set the place to blow up and… we don’t have much time.” Scarlett looked back down the hallway that she barely remembered while she’d been trying desperately to find her way to Tony so she could spare him any further torture. Carefully she leaned against the wall and then slid to the ground next to Tony with a heavy sigh.

“Of course,” Tony laughed under his breath and leaned his head back against the wall.

“I’m tired, Stark.” Scarlett closed her eyes but could feel Tony giving her the look he always gave her when she referred to him by his last name. “I mean, Tony. That’s going to take awhile to adjust to that.” Scarlett offered a weak smile as apology for her slip up.

“You should get out while you can.” Tony nudged her carefully with his right hand that kept twitching as his body tried to right itself after the amount of torture he’d gone through.

“No.” Scarlett made a sound of disapproval and picked up his hand with her own left hand. It hurt to bend each of her fingers but it was comforting to touch him. “I’m too tired, Tony.” Scarlett leaned her head back against the wall and closed her eyes.

Tony watched her with her eyes closed and smiled. They were going to die together. Even after how hard they’d fought to keep the other safe they were going to die. Somehow they’d resigned to that fact and had embraced that it was the end. There was nothing Tony wanted more than to keep Scarlett safe and happy but if what she wanted was to be with him, in the end, together, then that was okay with him too. It was only fitting that if they were going to die, they would die together. In fact, it was the only way Tony preferred to go. If Scarlett survived without him she would never be able to live with knowing that Tony had died for her and if he survived without her he’d be a shell of the man he’d become in the last month.

It seemed somehow appropriate that they would go together, hand in hand. Tony let go of her hand and then pulled her from the wall. At first he dropped her and Scarlett looked at him skeptically but he shushed her before she could object. He tried again and with a murmur pulled Scarlett into his lap so she was facing him and held her without any words for a long time.

Scarlett didn’t need to say anything else. She didn’t need to ask Tony where he’d been or how he’d discovered that Scott was behind her torture, behind her involvement with MedCo. It didn’t matter that he’d ignored her when she’d told him it was none of his business.

She was glad that he’d been too nosy to stop searching for answers. The only thing she regretted was that he had gotten hurt because of it. But she was very slowly learning that part of caring about someone was hurting when they hurt. It wasn’t a concept she was used to or even completely understood, but it didn’t matter.

Not now.

Scarlett laid her head down on Tony’s shoulder and closed her eyes. There was no more fighting, no more struggling; just her and Tony in the hallway waiting for fireworks. It wasn’t Paris, but it didn’t seem to matter. With Tony, Scarlett didn’t need Paris.

“You saved me.” Tony’s voice made Scarlett shiver as it reverberated through his throat. She fluttered her eyes open and lifted her head away from his shoulder. The room spun and she closed her eyes in hopes that when she opened them again he would be in focus. “You’ve been chasing these guys for weeks and you had the chance to… get what you wanted. Then you saved me and let him shoot you. For me. You had what you wanted finally…” Tony moistened his lips and looked past her, afraid of what her response would be. When he’d resigned to the fact that he’d fallen for her, he knew that it would be painful in many ways.

“Well it turns out, Stark… Tony… that when I finally got what I wanted it wasn’t really what I wanted at all.” Scarlett managed to get the room to stop spinning around her at long last. “I don’t know how to fix this nightmare with MedCo but… it’s not my fault that it’s happening. It never really was, was it?” Scarlett furrowed her brow, but Tony could see in her eyes that she was still trying to believe her own words.

“It never was.” Tony nodded resolutely.

“It took me a long time to see that but I know it now.” Scarlett placed her right hand on the side of Tony’s neck and let her forehead rest against his. Placing a soft kiss on his upper lip she kept her eyes closed and sighed. As she pulled her lips away Tony leaned his head away from the wall in an attempt to capture her lips for a moment longer. “What I want is something I already have. I’m just not very good at this sort of thing.”

“Couldn’t have figured that out a few weeks ago, huh?” Tony laughed, leaning his head back against the wall. Scarlett swatted playfully at his shoulder and then rested lazily against him once again. Comfortable silence fell between them while they waited for the end to come. Scarlett had no idea how long they had before either the bombs went off or someone found them down there. If someone came looking for them she was still armed enough to protect them for a short time, but she guessed that there were orders to remain outside of the building if it was set to go off.

“You know there’s a really slim chance that we won’t blow up.” Scarlett yawned, feeling the radio on her hips that hadn’t buzzed since Natasha had contacted her to tell her that her suspicions were confirmed.

“Is that so?” Tony was busy sorting out Scarlett’s curly hair that was rebellious beyond repair. Despite it being a mess it was still lovely and it gave him something to do while they waited for their inevitable end.

“Yeah, Natasha and Clint are upstairs trying to disarm the bombs… friends of mine, well… Natasha was an old friend, Clint I just met a little while ago.” Scarlett relaxed against him. How long had it been since she’d really relaxed? She couldn’t remember.

“Natasha? Why does that sound familiar?” Tony stopped playing with her hair and considered the name then immediately realized why the name was familiar. “Oh come on, you know the Black Widow?” At first he sounded surprised but the more he thought about it the more it made sense. Natasha Romanoff had spent a brief period of time employed at Stark Industries under the name Natalie Rushman where she had been an undercover spy sent from S.H.I.E.L.D. to keep an eye on Tony’s actions. She then had evaluated his potential for a project S.H.I.E.L.D. had been putting together under the watchful eye of Nick Fury called the Avengers. He’d been rejected for the initiative but kept in touch with S.H.I.E.L.D. as a consultant for various technological aspects of their missions.

Natasha and Tony hadn’t exactly hit it off in the beginning but they hadn’t disliked each other either. By the end of her short stay with Stark Industries the two had an understanding that if they ever crossed paths again they would be allies. Tony was aware of how dangerous Natasha was when he’d learned about her true identity and Natasha was aware of how volatile Tony could be when crossed.

“She’s an old friend. It’s a long story, but she’s here and trying to help with a friend of hers from S.H.I.E.L.D. Clint Barton otherwise known as Hawkeye. From what I understand he’s a renowned marksman. Funny if nothing else… but they’re upstairs. I sent them to go disarm the bombs while I came looking for you.” Scarlett picked up the radio that she had clipped on her belt and set it aside. “I assumed she’d let me know either way what was going to happen, but I haven’t heard from Tasha since she told me that the whole place was rigged to blow.” Scarlett reluctantly pulled her head up from Tony’s shoulder where it had comfortably been settled.

“I think we’ll be okay.” Tony looked at the radio, hoping that it would buzz and end the constant worry that came with waiting for death. Scarlett stared at the radio too, but thought about Tony’s words. They seemed resolute. He was somehow sure that they’d be okay and she was amazed by his optimism. She wished she could be at least a little bit as sure they were going to get out of the facility in one piece. MedCo had them where they wanted them and while it wasn’t as elegant as she was sure Mikhail and Marcia had originally envisioned her unraveling, what really mattered was that the end was at last realized.

The means were no longer relevant.

“Just like that, huh?”

“Just like that,” Tony whispered, resting his hand on her back, still tangled in her hair. “Think about it… think about everything we’ve gone through to get this far. I finally get to hold you and it’s in our dying breath? I don’t know. It doesn’t seem right.”

“It seems awfully poetic to me.”

“Poetic? Jeez, what poems have you been reading?”

“TS Eliot, Shakespeare, Robert Frost…” Scarlett could’ve continued but Tony waved his hand to signal her to stop.

“I get it, I get it… okay, so literature is against us. But I have faith that we were meant for more than just a month of… well, ninety percent struggle. We were meant to be happy.”

“Sometimes you and I are very different people.” Scarlett leaned her head up and caught his gaze. “And what if this is it? And if not… what if it never gets easier for us?” Tony placed his hand beneath her chin and looked into her blue eyes, dulled by illness and injury. How long had she been thinking about how she might have ruined his life and why hadn’t he noticed it earlier? Could she really think that he wouldn’t fight for her no matter how hard it was? He guessed he couldn’t blame her, given his history and hers. But before he could reassure her, the radio buzzed on the floor nearby.

“Scarlett? Scarlett, I could really use your help right now if you’re there.” Natasha’s voice echoed through the empty hallway from the radio. Scarlett exchanged glances with Tony before picking up the radio and responding.

“What is it, Tasha?”

“Well,” Natasha turned toward Clint who was standing by the crater in the ground that had once been the door into the control room. He was ducking in and out of the doorway, taking down guards that had come to provide backup to those who had been charged with defending the very room that the two S.H.I.E.L.D. agents had gained control of. "Clint, you explain this better than I do."

"I'm sort of busy right now, Tasha." Clint gritted his teeth as he dodged gunfire from the floor below. Natasha got up from where she sat on the floor and pulled two small discs from her belt. Tossing them to the floor below after taking a good luck she covered her ears and Clint did the same. Just in time he'd done that because the discs blew up, shaking the entire control room beneath them.

"Here, I'll take watch while you explain." Natasha peered cautiously over the edge of the destroyed doorway and down into the smoky aftermath below. There was no sign of movement. They were unsure of how many guards would be sent to defend the control room or how important the room actually was to MedCo. Scattered groups of guards had come trickling through the hallway and had pursued them, but whether or not their appearance was coincidental or calculated they didn’t know. Clint caught the radio clumsily and then cleared his throat, looking to his counterpart in disbelief. This escape plan they'd hatched had not gone anything according to their plan. But he had to remember that their strategies rarely every worked out. He was bloody and bruised and worried about their exit plan, given the clock on the explosive read that it only had five minutes and counting left.

Oh, less than five minutes.

Great.

"Natasha, what's going on up there? Do you need my help?" Scarlett responded from the other end of the radio, looking warily at Tony. They weren't going to make it upstairs easily, particularly if there was resistance. Whatever explosion had gone off up above had shaken the whole building and it worried Scarlett that they were too late to disarm the bombs they'd found hidden throughout the facility earlier before she'd begun her search for Tony. It crossed her mind that they should hunker down and try to build a shelter from the impending explosions but given the state they were both in, she didn't think they'd have the time or the strength to succeed. "What was that?"

"She handed me the radio, well we found... well, we found the power supply for the explosives wired throughout the building and discovered that they were being triggered by a wireless beacon. Oh and Tasha set off an explosion, we’re fine."

"Well that's not good," Tony muttered, looking down at the woman who he could see had her mind working a mile a minute. Digging into her pockets he found the earpiece she'd picked up on their way out of the cell he'd been held in and started to fiddle with it. If he could get his suit to come and protect them then they might stand a chance against the blast. Even if they didn't have the time, maybe it could at least protect Scarlett from the impact of the blow. He very much doubted she would be fond of this idea so he kept it to himself.

"But it appears the beacon is out of range and either way Natasha managed to disable the wireless radio. Even if whoever is controlling this thing tried to flip the switch it wouldn't do a damn thing." Clint peered over at the switchboard on the ground where the timer still ticked downward. Natasha had gotten angry at it when she couldn't figure out how to disable the transmitter and had ripped the receiver straight off. It had been a rash and risky move but it had actually done the job and disabled at least part of the problem.

"Well, that's good then isn't it?" Tony called into the radio as he fiddled around with the earpiece that Scarlett was now trying to get a better look at. It was burnt in several places from the torture Tony had gone through. The electrical current looked like it had been far too much for the little earpiece.

"It would be except that there's a failsafe rigged into the device. When it was activated and the explosives were powered a timer started ticking. If the trigger wasn't hit within that amount of time the device would blow up regardless." Clint repeated, looking at the mess of wires that came from either side of the bomb. It was like nothing he'd ever seen before.

"That's very not good." Tony swatted Scarlett's hands away from the earpiece as she tried to examine it further.

"How much time is left?" Scarlett winced, trying to recall any history she had working with explosives which wasn't very much. She knew how to set them and she knew how to create them but unraveling someone else's work took time, skill, and most importantly, the chance to take a closer look. By the time she made it upstairs to the control room with Tony she guessed that it would be far too late.

"About three minutes." Clint was starting to pull apart wires, trying to find which one controlled the power source. If he could stop it from powering then maybe he could stop the explosion altogether. But what if it had a failsafe? MedCo was smart enough to build in a failsafe for the wireless communication so what made him think there wouldn't be a trigger that set off the bomb if power was cut off?

"You're going to have to disable the timer. I don't think you can disable the bomb itself." Scarlett mused over what she knew. "I'd ask you to describe it to me but by the time you do we'll be toast. Even if we had the time, we can't make it up there. Tony's in bad shape and... well, I was in bad shape to begin with." Scarlett muttered.

"Yeah, I was thinking the same thing... about disarming it not about you and Tony, I'm glad he's safe by the way."

"Thanks from the afterthought." Tony rolled his eyes and then set the earpiece back into his pocket. It was broken. There was nothing he could do to call his suit. There was nothing he could do to protect Scarlett from what was to come. Even if he couldn't protect himself he wanted to protect her. She'd been willing to give her life in order to save his and he was more than willing to do the same but there was nothing he could do now.

Tony didn't like not being in control.

"It doesn't sound like anyone else is coming." Natasha finally pulled away from her position in the doorway. With a soft noise she leapt down into the corridor onto the broken spiral staircase to get a better look. At the bottom of the stairs, which she reached in a flash thanks to her natural athletic ability, she saw no one else coming from the stairwells on either side of the hallway. "This place is a ghost town."

"Your best bet is to try and figure out the timer. Get it to stop, disable it. Don't try to pull the external power, that'll just set it off. I'd bet anything that it's got its own power source just in case you try to do that." Scarlett furrowed her brow. That was just the kind of bomb that she had unknowingly taught MedCo to build when she'd been working on her escape in South Africa. Every moment from her weeks in captivity seemed to come back annoyingly on repeat to haunt her.

"That's easier said than done." Natasha pushed her short curly hair out of her face and started to tug at wires until Clint pulled her hand away.

"You can't do that, you're going to get us killed," he hissed.

"It worked last time didn't it?"

"You got lucky." Clint corrected. Fear reflected in Natasha's eyes, but not the kind that crippled her. She was scared they would fail but also knew that they had done what was best and had tried their hardest to stop the timer. Time seemed to pass too quickly as they examined the timer and the dozen or so wires coming from it.

"Try to get to the back of the timer. If you can get the clock to stop then the threat stops entirely. It's not a permanent shut off for the explosion but it'll buy us the time we need for reinforcements to get here." Scarlett added in. Tony had called to someone after she'd helped free him but she wasn't sure if the call had gone through. The earpiece he'd relied on for communication had been fried beyond the point of repair and it was very likely that no one had heard what he'd had to say.

"Clint we're running out of time." Natasha jeered in his ear, trying to help him pry up the device. He nodded, sweat dripping down his forehead while his fingers stayed steady despite how the rest of him trembled with anxiety. It was likely that they would be the last to die in the explosion once the timer had gone off. There were no explosives in the control room that he could see, but the ones they'd passed would be enough to destroy the foundation of the already damaged stairwell that led there.

"I can see that," muttering beneath his breath, Clint laid on his back and pulled a flashlight from his belt. Holding the end of it between his teeth he pointed it at the back of the timer and found the latch that held it in place. Tony and Scarlett had stopped trying to communicate with them and instead concentrated on what could be their last moments together. There was much they could say but nothing that needed to be said so instead they sat and waited, bruised, broken, and content with the decisions they'd made for the time being. The future didn't seem to matter much when they were about to be blown to smithereens.

Behind the timer lay seemingly a thousand more wires, controlling both the clock and the signal that would be sent to the detonator if the timer counted to zero. If Clint could keep the clock from ticking further and damage the timer enough then they would stand a chance. Carefully he followed the wires with his bloodied and banged up fingers. First he grabbed a small thin green one that lay between three others of the exact same color. His fingers trembled and he hesitated.

"One minute, Clint," Natasha whispered, peering over his shoulder at the wires and the mass of them. It would be a close call but she'd survived closer in the past and hoped this would be one of those things she could laugh about over a glass of vodka with Scarlett later.

"You're not helping, Tasha." Clint touched over the four wires and winced. Any one of them could turn off the timer, but any one of them could be attached to the power source too. There was no way for them to tell without better equipment.

"Just pick one!" Natasha reached past him and pulled two of the wires, given her best guess. Before Clint could scold her there was a high pitched beep emitting from the timer. Clint grabbed onto Natasha in hopes of protecting her from the explosion and held her close to him and she let him, much to his surprise.

But when no explosion came, Clint opened his eyes and released his grip on his friend. The room was quiet and still, minus the squealing coming from the timer. Natasha sat up when the radio buzzed.

"...did you stop it?" Scarlett's voice could be heard from the radio. “It’s been longer than three minutes unless I have the worst concussion ever.”

"Hold on." Clint got up, releasing Natasha and crawling over to the timer. He then flipped it over so he could see the numbers. At seventeen seconds the timer stopped, flickering dangerously but stopped nonetheless. The squealing still came from the little device, but apparently the sound was merely a malfunction of the timer itself and not a signal that they were doomed. Natasha laughed, picking up the radio. It was the sort of laugh that was filled with relief, an exasperated way of saying that she couldn't really believe that her haste had managed to win the day.

"The timer stopped."

"Seventeen seconds before the end! The damn thing won't stop squealing but it's stopped." Clint chimed in. He still didn't trust the timer or the device and wanted to get them out of there as quickly as he could but he felt triumphant.

"Cutting it a little close, don't you think?" Tony teased, though exhaustion was thick in his voice. The longer they sat still the stronger the desire became to close his eyes. But he knew he couldn't rest, not until he was sure they were safe enough to get out of there.

"Hey, it's better than two seconds." Scarlett looked to him knowingly. "Can you guys come down here? We could use the backup. Maybe then we can make our way out past what’s left of MedCo’s forces." Scarlett knew that Tony was in no shape to be marching through the MedCo facility, escaping in a haze of bullets and glory, but they couldn't stay where they were either. Eventually someone would come looking for them and she had the feeling that they'd used up their last bit of luck on the explosives and the countdown timer.

Not to mention Scott was still out there somewhere.

If he ever gathered his wits and sanity back to him then he would know that his best bet to get at her and to get to Tony would be to come back into the facility and take them while they were vulnerable. She had no doubts that he wouldn't hesitate to blow Tony into next week and continue on with his plans despite how his psyche seemed to have shattered when he'd realized she was willing to sacrifice herself for someone else and that someone else wasn’t him.

"We're on our way." Natasha nodded to Clint then to the stairwell. Clint was seated leaning against the long desk nearby with his eyes closed. His heart was still racing in his ears and his hands had finally given into the tremble that had threatened to overtake them while he was pulling at the wires.

"Do you have any idea how lucky that was?"

"It was either pull the wires or wait to explode. Either way we would've gone up in flames." Natasha was checking her ammunition, which she was low on, and starting down the remainder of the spiral staircase, gun at the ready. It wasn't time to celebrate victory, not yet. There was still their escape at hand and the way Scarlett had asked for help had made her nervous. Only the day prior Scarlett had basically been telling her where to shove her offer of assistance and now she was requesting it. Something had happened that she hadn't said over the radio and she knew that asking would do no good.

Clint followed after Natasha down the steps, exhausted to his core but knew just as well as his partner that they had much more work to do before the day was over. It had been exciting for awhile but the bomb scare had done a number on his nerves. Retrieving the phone he'd been given by S.H.I.E.L.D. for communication he called the second number set on the speed dial and heard a familiar voice at the other end of the line.

"It seems like you could use some help." Maria Hill, a S.H.I.E.L.D. agent higher in the ranks of the corporation and who very rarely did field work responded.

"You're in the clear for entry now. I saw you from the top of the building. Take out the MedCo forces and get in here." He went on to explain the situation with the explosives and how the teams would need to use caution on their way in but also requested help explaining that they were in bad shape after the long struggle against the same MedCo forces and how some of them just wouldn't die.

"We're way ahead of you," Maria responded after all had been explained. On the trek through the hallway and down the stairs they met very little resistance. It seemed that the remainder of those who had been inside when Natasha and Clint had climbed to the control room had long evacuated the building. "We're taking down the outside forces and with some help at that. A group of rebel soldiers and the WarMachine were already here when we arrived. He's been waiting for the go ahead to enter the building, I'm sure he'll be happy to meet you inside given how anxious he’s been."

"We'll try and get out then." Clint looked to Natasha warily. She was swaying as she walked. After she'd been blasted down the stairwell she'd knocked her head and it was very likely she'd suffered at least a concussion.

"You said they're on the bottom floor? Basement sub-level two?" Maria seemed to contemplate the next course of action.

"Yes," Natasha confirmed for Clint once she'd radioed Scarlett to make sure.

"Rendezvous with Miss Damien and Mr. Stark and then we'll send reinforcements to you." Somehow Maria had been able to tell in Clint's voice that something was wrong and they needed the help.

"Can do." Clint hung up his phone and followed Natasha down stairwell after stairwell until, out of breath, they reached the bottom floor. They found Tony leaning against the wall, half conscious, one eye peering at them. Scarlett sat nearby, holding her gun and waiting until she could confirm that they had come alone. Her left arm lay limp at her side, useless. It had finally given out on her and was an unnatural white color. The amount of blood she must have lost had to have been catastrophic.

Without a word, Clint and Natasha sat down on the opposite side of the hallway and made themselves comfortable, or as comfortable as one could be in a prison. Tony saw how weary they were and knew that the battle they must have gone through had to have been as dangerous as the one that he'd suffered through with Mikhail.

"Should we go?" Scarlett made no move to get up, but placed her gun down nearby. Natasha shook her head from side to side.

"We have orders to stand by until they're done outside. Your friend Rhodey is on his way in too. Apparently he's very worried about you." Natasha turned her attention to Tony momentarily. "Good to see you're still getting into as much trouble as I remember. Actually, more trouble than I remember." Natasha nodded toward Scarlett.

"Yeah, good to see you too." Tony scoffed and closed his eyes, leaning against Scarlett who rolled hers in response but smiled a little. After some more time spent in silence, no one having much left to say Tony broke it anxiously. "I like this. The four of us." They turned their attention to the billionaire whose arc reactor was the only proper light in the now dark hallway. Someone had turned off the power moments prior just in case. Clint guessed that someone had come to deal with the detonator upstairs. "We should double date sometime."

"That's the worst idea you've ever had." Scarlett laughed and Clint nodded to agree.

"We should probably never hang out like this ever again, actually." He smiled, relieved to see that after everything that had transpired, they'd all survived with their senses of humor intact.

"Agreed," Scarlett murmured, leaning her head at last on top of Tony's which was still on her shoulder. While he was falling asleep practically on top of her, she wasn't sure if she'd ever find sleep easily again.

But at least she'd managed to save his life. Had the damage that had been done been worth it? As of right now, Scarlett felt that the fight had been well worth it. Near death experiences had a way of making a person value what they'd taken for granted. Now all that was left was for the group to wait for help to arrive so they could deal with the aftermath.