entrancelogs | i was left to my own devices

Entry tags:

i was left to my own devices

Who: Steve Rogers and Natasha Romanoff
Where: The clinic.
When: 4/22
Rating: PG-13
Summary: Steve's decided to discharge himself from the clinic, which is when a certain someone finds him.
The Story:
As far Steve's concerned, he's done his time here in the clinic. He'd even forced himself not to get up out of bed the moment he woke from a sleep that felt too long (and these days, anything more than five hours tends to count as "too long" for him), taking some time to recover and speak with the doctor on duty. A nice British woman named Martha. The second British woman he's met here, in fact. Steve's starting to wonder if he's out of place here.

Supposedly, all of them are, if he's going to believe what everyone's told him. This is all bizarre enough that he doesn't have many other options. Steve's done the whole waking up in a foreign place where he knows no one thing before, and he's not too thrilled to be going through it again.

He needs to find out what happened to the others. Sam, Natasha, Fury...

And Bucky.

Not that he's going to find anything out here, and while he's been told again and again that escape isn't impossible, he's never been one to lay down and accept something for what it is.

Martha had given him a helpful pamphlet that answered a good chunk of his questions, and he'd also spent some time in bed learning in the ins and outs of his new Wonderland-prescribed phone. The hardest thing to wrap his head around so far is that people are from a variety of different worlds. The Chitauri had been one thing, but this is edging toward too much to swallow.

What Steve needs to do now is get a better lay of the land, and since he's decided he's well enough to walk, he takes a moment when all of the doctors are otherwise occupied to get up out of bed. He's sore all over and his face won't stop stinging, but he can stand on his own and that's what counts.

[ Warning: Spoilers for Captain America: The Winter Soldier under the cut! ]

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Natasha's had the benefit of a night's rest - although it wasn't exactly peaceful, being in an unfamiliar place as she was. Still, she'd managed to nab a few hours before the sun was up again and she delved into exploring her new surroundings. She'd started at the bottom, scouring through the rooms on the first floor and mapping the layout in her head as she went. She'd learned some the evening before, the people she'd encountered having been openly helpful, but she preferred to see for herself, put her own picture together of the space she was now contained to. The kitchen was different than the one she'd woken up in. That had been disconcerting, but she'd been warned about that too.

She'd been wandering up one of the halls that held the bedrooms, like the floor she'd stayed on last night. The doors that were propped open caught her attention and she peeked in as many of them as she could. She made a mental note of the Library, as that was the most useful thing she'd found so far.

Of course, that was until she stumbled across what appeared to be a small clinic with none other than Steve Rogers standing unsteadily by one of the beds, his back to her. She blinks, almost certain she's imagining things but no, he's still there and there's no mistaking him for someone else. She indulges in a crooked grin, relieved to see him despite the predicament they're in.

"I leave you alone for a day and you end up right back in medical. You really need to work on that, Rogers."

The minute that Steve hears her voice, he spins around, pulling at his abdominal stitches to the extent that he winces his eyes shut for just a moment before blurting out, "Natasha?"

It's said louder than he'd really meant for, and he shoots a furtive look around the clinic before stepping toward her (though it's really more of a hobble) so that he can speak more quietly. The fact stands that these days, he isn't even that shocked when Natasha shows up in unexpected places.

And if there's someone who was going to be trapped here with him, she's near the top of the list for who he'd choose. They work well together, there's no denying that. Even if she isn't always the best at following orders, they've reached a point of understanding with each other, and just seeing her again—despite the circumstances—makes him more comfortable.

"I'm guessing you're not here as my knight in shining armor." That would be far too simple, as much as Steve would prefer to get out of this place ASAP.

He knows he's a sorry sight with the hospital gown he's wearing and the stitches on his cheek, but if Natasha saw that helicarrier go down, there's probably no mystery as to how this happened to him.

It's not until he turns that she sees how badly he's injured and she reaches out instinctively when he takes an unsteady step towards her, a wince of pain on his face. It takes that long to recognize the injuries as well, familiar in their locations and a puzzled look flickers across her face.

"What the hell, Steve, this is from...?" She trails off, her hand warm and firm on his arm, just in case. Although if Captain America starts toppling over, she's not sure what good she's going to be. Still, there's discrepancies here she doesn't understand, because she's seen him healed from these same wounds, unless something had been done to return them.

"I thought knight in shining armor was your job description. If you're relying on me for that, we're in serious trouble." The quip comes easily, light and wry, because it's always easier to deflect the direness of a situation with a bit of humor, at least for her.

Steve has no plans to collapse any time soon. He's rested enough that his body is working hard on the healing process, and he wouldn't be surprised if he can get his stitches removed in a day or two. He doesn't mind Natasha's steadying hand, but it isn't all that necessary.

It's her confusion that grabs his attention, and he eyes her for a few seconds, but she's never been that easy to read. The joke is something he brushes off for now, as he can tell something's wrong.

"Let's get out of here," he murmurs. They're going to be discussing some delicate information and he would rather not alert the clinic staff to the fact that he's checking out early. He knows how doctors can be, and while they all mean well, he's not a normal patient.

He starts for the door, doing his best to walk normally and hide his limp.

It's more force of habit than anything - keeping Clint in medical when he gets badly hurt sometimes requires everything short of sitting on him and cuffing him to the bed and the task usually falls to her because he always finds a way to charm, coerce or threaten his way past anyone else assigned the task. Steve seems to being doing well enough keeping himself upright so she takes a step back when he moves past her, heading for the door. No one's there to stop him or offer protest, so she follows, falling into step at his side with an easy grace.

"Out of medical or out of here?" she asks, waving a hand to indicate Wonderland as a whole. She doesn't know how long he's been here or what he knows yet so it's a valid question. "Because from what I hear, that may be more problematic than our last mission."

Steve's thankful that Natasha doesn't force him back into bed, because at this point that would be nothing more than a waste of time. She understands his limits and when he's pushing himself too hard, which isn't the case now. Granted, Steve doesn't usually have a personal limit.

"That's what I hear too," he says under his breath as they exit the clinic, relaxing only slightly when they reach the hallway. He'd been pretty out of it when Evelyn and Hannibal had dragged him here, and so he takes a moment to study the immediate area before continuing down the hall.

Hard to imagine that anything could be more problematic than that last mission. They'll get past this. At least there's no sign of it being personal so far.

He tries the first door they pass and finds an empty room. He's read about the closets, and while he doesn't quite understand, he's going to give it a try. Steve steps inside and after he closes the door behind Natasha, he turns toward her, a sharpness in his eyes. At least this time he isn't manhandling her.

"You said something earlier, about my injuries. What is it?"

She lets him take the lead, content enough to follow for the time being, mostly because she'd explored the majority of this floor already and he looked like he needed to. Besides, she was more interested in covertly studying him, drinking in details with a keen eye and no, she hadn't been imagining the placement of those injuries and perhaps some of those conversations she'd had last night were already paying off in explaining the strange and impossible. He wasn't moving as smoothly as he usually did, which spoke to the amount of discomfort he was in, but she didn't press the issue. He didn't look on the brink of toppling over on her and she knew all too well the frustration of being handicapped when there was work to be done.

Still, when he led her into a room and turned to her with that, she took her time in answering, delaying a moment so she could choose the words she wanted. Besides, she could rarely resist the opportunity to tease him and he was so good at giving her opportunities.

"What, no getting physical this time? And here I was getting so fond of your interrogation techniques, Captain," she quips, coy smile playing at the corner of her lips as she shoots him a knowing look.

It takes Steve a moment to realize what Natasha is even referring to, but then he remembers when she'd found him at the hospital after his escape from the Triskelion, and how he'd dragged her into a room and shoved her against the wall, demanding answers. He'd been pretty worked up then, considering he'd had all of SHIELD trying to kill him, so it seems a little unfair that she's teasing him now.

Not that he lets on to that. Instead he just smirks at her and shakes his head. "Maybe another day."

The reality is that he doesn't want to be driven to that level of desperation again. There are a lot of unknowns here in Wonderland from what he's seen and read so far, and being thrown into it right after taking down the helicarriers only adds insult to injury. But they'll get through this.

"So are you going to answer or not?" he asks as he approaches the closet. What had the pamphlet said? Think about what you want, open it, bam. Steve pictures a change of clothes and then opens the door, and lo and behold, there's a pair of pants and a shirt folded there, along with some briefs. The world gets stranger and stranger every day.

When he pulls the clothes out, though, he realizes that the shirt has an emblem on it. Steve raises an eyebrow. It's not what he'd been expecting, but it'll have to do for now.

"Yes," she answers vaguely, starting to prowl the edges of the room, checking the windows, scoping out her surroundings out of habit and purposeful intent. Half her attention is on him, watching him try out the closet and that's going to always be a little surreal, the ability to wish something into existence here by sheer force of will. She can admit to having playing with it far longer than she otherwise would have this morning before heading out. But who wouldn't?

As it was, she had her typical supplies on her underneath her casual clothes and that was a reassurance in itself as she circled back towards him, amused at what he'd pulled out of the closet to replace his hospital gown.

"I will answer," she continued, glancing up at him curiously. "But I need you to answer something for me first. Humor me, there's a reason, I promise. What's the last thing you remember before waking up here?"

Steve appreciates Natasha's thoroughness, although this room in particular doesn't look like it has much to offer. It's completely bare, and his guess is that it's not being used by anyone. It looks more like a simple hotel room than anything else, though there isn't even any art on the walls.

When Natasha circles back to him again, Steve glances over, setting the clothes aside on top of the dresser for the moment.

He'll humor her, mainly because he trusts her, they've been through more than enough for her to have earned that. Besides, it's not a very hard question for him to answer. "I'd just gotten the discs swapped on the third helicarrier. I gave Maria the order to have them take each other out, and the one I was on was crashing. I fell into the water, and then... next thing I know, I'm washing up on the beach here." For the moment, he leaves Bucky out of it.

It'd been a jarring transition, there's no doubt about that. Steve's still not sure what might have happened if Evelyn and Hannibal hadn't been there to find him.

She exhales, the sound audible, tucking her hands in the back pockets of her jeans as she rocks back on her heels a moment, trying to figure out how to explain this.

"That's what I was afraid of. For me? That was days ago. You were found, dragged into a hospital, patched up. We had an aftermath to deal with and let me tell you what, you made a mess, Rogers. A necessary one, but a mess all the same. The suits are all in a tizzy, trying to figure out what to do now, but it's not like they don't panic easily anyway. They'll get over it. Eventually."

She nodded towards his face, where the stitches are still visible. "When you and I parted ways, those were gone. Such a hardship, super soldier healing. I'm jealous. My shoulder's still not a hundred percent."

Days ago? Steve's body language tenses up and his back straightens as his mind spins with countless different questions he can ask her about what happened to the others in the aftermath. She doesn't tell him anything immediately worrying, at least, so chances are nothing catastrophic happened. He'd been planning to make a mess, after all.

Steve doesn't know what the future will hold. None of them do, and that's the point. History won't be planned out in the shadows anymore. Or at least, they can continue to work to keep that from happening.

At the mention of her wound, Steve glances down at Natasha's shoulder, where—where Bucky had shot her. That's the second scar she's going to have because of him.

"You all right? What about the others? Sam, Fury..." And he wants to ask about Bucky, but she probably has no idea, and even if she did, it seems tactless to ask when she just mentioned the very wound she got from him.

She leans back against the wall and watches his reaction to her news, anticipating that, but his reactions always interest her, always prompt her to try and learn a little more. He's a puzzle and she's always careful how she phrases anything with him, because how he answers is just as important to her as what he answers, whether she knows the answer already or not.

"Yeah, I'm fine," she answers, waving a hand dismissively, smile twitching across her lips at his concern. "Fury's on his way to Europe. Everyone still thinks he's dead and he thinks it best to keep it that way for the the time being. He's pretty convinced there are still Hydra cells out there and he's going to hunt for them. Sam's fine too, he didn't get all that banged up, especially compared to you. The two of you were thick as thieves when I saw you."

It had been what gave her enough reassurance to head out on her own, after all. She still hadn't felt entirely confident about handing that file over, certain he would not like what he found, but that was his call, not hers. She owed him that much at the very least.

She hadn't missed that he'd purposefully not asked about him yet either. She smiles, rueful, and volunteers the information anyway.

"They didn't find Bucky among the wreckage. They looked. Thoroughly. But I knew they wouldn't find him there. He's too good at surviving, at vanishing. He won't be found until he wants to be. You were going to go looking anyway."

Natasha is almost as dismissive about her wounds as he is, and Steve realizes that's because she's been doing this for years and has probably taken her fair share of bullets in that time. It doesn't mean that he'll stop worrying, though.

So Fury's going underground, Sam got out okay after being grounded, and then—well, then there's Bucky. Natasha doesn't need him to ask, and he's grateful that she offers up the information. Steve isn't even sure he wants to speak his name right now, not when his voice might break as he says it.

He nods, not having expected anything different. If they didn't find his body, then he's still out there, and Steve's not at all surprised that his next step had been to go find him. He makes a small fist with his right hand, the frustration of being stuck in this place rather than back home looking for Bucky finally starting to sink in.

"And what about you? What happened with your plan to confront Pierce?"

Steve had been a little busy during all of that, so he hadn't gotten a very clear idea of what had gone on there. He wants to ask if Natasha plans to go searching for the Winter Soldier with him, but it may be something she's still deciding for herself, so he holds back.

He had missed a lot, hadn't he? At the reminder, her lips curved downward in a frown for a moment, returning to serious business without the witty commentary.

"He's dead. Fury shot him," she answered simply, showing no sign of distress over that, not going into details about the tense encounter either. She stuck to the important bits. "So's the World Security Council. Still debating if that's good or bad, personally, but at least Pierce is out of the picture. We accomplished what we went in for. All of Hydra's secrets we had access to are out there now. SHIELD's too. We made a really big mess for a lot of people but at least we're not covering for Hydra anymore. I suppose that should count for something, right?" Her lips quirk, a faint attempt at dry humor as she tucks a lock of hair behind her ear.

Steve can't say he feels much distress over Pierce's death either. It's not like they had the infrastructure to lock him up at the moment, and in the end Fury's quarrel with him is far more personal than Steve's. He's going to assume that he had his reasons and leave it at that.

"It counts for a whole lot, Natasha," Steve says, his own expression and demeanor growing more serious. He can't be certain she was entirely on-board with the idea of tearing SHIELD down, but she also hadn't protested it, and that had been good enough for him. "Now maybe we can actually get some work done." Once they get out of Wonderland, that is. "Thanks for handling it."

They'd all played their part, and somehow they had pulled it off. With no small amount of help, either. Apparently his words over the SHIELD HQ intercom had done some good.

Having satisfied his curiosity at least for the moment, Steve grabs for the change of clothes and glances over at Natasha. "Could you, uhh..." He makes a circular movement with his free hand, indicating that she should turn around.

"If you have an idea of how to get work done from here, I'd love to hear it," she returns, chuckling as she shakes her head, still casually lounging against the wall. "Also considering we just sent our employers the most definitive resignation in history and they were the ones to find most of the work that needs doing? I'm not so sure that's going to be as easy as you make it sound. You get points for unfailing optimism, however."

Her humor fades though and she averts her gaze, arms still crossed in front of her, the pose looking more defensive than comfortable for the briefest of moments. "I didn't do it for you. I did it because it needed to be done. And we made the world vulnerable in a way its never been before. Not for a long time. I'm not sure you should be thanking me just yet." He didn't know the half of what she'd put out there, after all.

When he motions to her, her lips quirk and she arches an eyebrow, looking for a moment as if she's going to make this difficult for him, but she bites back the retort on the tip of her tongue and obligingly turns her back to him. "Before you do that, you might want to cover the mirror with something. Apparently those are used to spy on us. Magic voodoo and all that."

And every room she'd been in so far seemed to come already equipped with one. It was starting to give her the creeps.

Natasha makes a good point about the mirrors, and so before addressing anything else she's said, Steve yanks the covers off of the unused bed and drapes them over the mirror. It occurs to them that their voices might still be traveling through to the other side, which for the most part is a mystery to him, but he knows enough to be cautious about it.

With that done, he starts to change, but it's slow-going because of his stitches. He's got to be careful with his movements or he'll end up tearing something and having to drag himself back to the clinic, and then he'll get chewed out by some very nice doctors—and really, who wants that?

"Sometimes you've got to go with the harder choice, if it's what's right. I'd rather there be chaos for a while than have order that's maintained by HYDRA." It's nothing that Natasha doesn't already know, but Steve wants to make it clear that he understands the consequences of his actions. To him, it had also been personal, about finishing a job he thought he'd taken care of when he'd crashed the Valkyrie.

He couldn't have been more wrong, but at least he's put things to rest now, even if it is seventy years late. "Sounds like I'd already decided what I was doing with myself next." It's not like he would be able to focus on anything else until he tracked down Bucky. "So how about you, what's your plan?" Even he's having a hard time imagining what Natasha would do with herself now that SHIELD's gone.

Her smirk is directed at the wall, since she's still turned away from him, but it's audible enough in her voice if he's listening. "What makes you think I have one?"

It's a delaying tactic at best, but if his last memory is the helicarriers crashing then he hasn't seen the aftermath. Hasn't seen the media circus, the agencies clamoring for answers, for justice. Hasn't seen the treasure trove of secrets unleashed across the internet, now being mined for every minute detail.

Of course she has a plan. She enjoys living too much not to have half a dozen in place at any given time. And there were a worrisome amount of people looking for her right now.

"I blew my covers," she answers finally, staring across the room, listening to him change. "My aliases. Everything. The secrets are all out." Or at least the ones SHIELD had on record. "I was headed off to make some new ones."

Natasha always has a plan. She probably has multiple plans, in fact, for every given situation. It's an impressive trait, something to be admired because any soldier should be prepared, but the various different agendas get tough to keep up with.

Maybe it's easier for them to not be looking at each other during this portion of the conversation, since her admittance is not something Steve could have predicted. The Black Widow, laying herself bare for everyone to see? He thinks about when they first met, and back then he never could have pictured her making such a bold move.

But after what they've just been through? He believes her.

"There's gonna be a lot of backlash from that," he says quietly as he gets the shirt over his shoulders and then carefully pulls it down. "You did it for yourself, right, Natasha? Not for anyone else." Everything's been changing, shifting, and Natasha's a part of that. Steve just has to make sure she doesn't feel like she was somehow strong-armed into this.

"There already has been," she drawls, her voice dry. "A lot of suits throwing around blame, talk of imprisonment. They're always looking for a scapegoat. Someone to take the fall. Don't worry, I can handle the backlash. And if not, I fully expect assembling and a jail break, Rogers. Prison food is abhorrent, I hear."

It's easy to keep her reply light, to brush off any real concern, and it's not like this is the first time she's had to dodge accusations like that, she has her own emergency contingencies in place, should things ever get that dire.

She flicks a glance over her shoulder, figuring he's had plenty of time to dress and yes, he's dropping his shirt into place, so she timed it right anyway. She meets his gaze, her own serious. "I did it because it needed to be done. Don't worry, Cap, I'm not over here wallowing in regrets. It's not the first time I've had to start from scratch."

As casual as she may be about it, Natasha is still talking about people wanting her behind bars, and that's not something that sits well with Steve. Not when she's the one person who had been at his side when the entirety of SHIELD—no, HYDRA—had wanted him dead. Natasha's proven herself ten times over as far as he's concerned.

"You're right," he says, catching her gaze. He's still got that somber look on his face—maybe Peggy had been right about him being too dramatic. "You're not ending up in prison, not on my watch." And all of them will be there to bust her out if it comes to that.

He has no idea what the media's been doing to him back home, but in a way, it's nice to have a break from that. Having such a reputation can be a real double-edged sword. At least their time here in Wonderland will allow them to regroup.

"Guess this is one more detour before we have to worry about our next step," he says grimly. He wants to be out there looking for Bucky, and Natasha probably has her own set of priorities, yet here they are. One step at a time, then. He's dressed now, so that's moving in the right direction. "How much of this place have you searched so far?"

She goes still for a moment when he meets her gaze, pausing in a way that's at odds with her typical smooth behavior and light disregard for anything dipping too deeply into serious topics. She can't quite brush that off so easily as everything else, not when that means something. Because when he says it, she can believe it. As much as she believes anything from anyone, at least. And that surprises her almost as much as his words do.

"Careful, Rogers." She tries for light, she really does, but it's not the flawless execution she typically manages. She tucks her hair behind her ear, a subtle distraction, giving her a moment to wrangle her composure. "That could be a taller order than you're prepared for. But I appreciate the backup. Really."

And she did. It was new and strange, the understanding that he would actually have her back if she needed it. It made her a little uncomfortable, to be honest, not sure what she was supposed to do with this. She'd always had Clint, of course - the number of times they'd bailed each other out of trouble is something she'd lost track of long ago but she could also admit that he was just as likely to be neck-deep in trouble with her. And Fury she'd trusted but only to a point and she'd always been aware of that point, knowing that he would do all he could until it served the grater good to turn a blind eye. He was ruthless and he got the job done and that was why she respected him and followed his orders, but she knew it was foolish to ever trust him wholeheartedly.

Steve Rogers, though. He was something else. And just when she thought she'd started to figure him out, he'd go and say something like that and surprise her all over again.

Pushing that aside for the moment, she turned her focus instead to his question and the topic at hand, preferring to focus on that rather than the strange knot in her stomach. "It's a hell of a detour. I've made it through most of the first floor so far. I got here late yesterday, saw the kitchens, got the typical welcome speech, found a room upstairs. I've been mapping out what I could as I go."

"Tall order or not, I'll be there," Steve replies easily, and the fact that he can say the words and actually mean them is probably what shocks Natasha so much, but he thinks she should be used to this by now. They're teammates, they've been through a hell of a lot together, of course he's going to be there to bail her out.

And he knows she'd do the exact same thing for him. They've been over this by now, so he won't let her dwell on it too much. Not when they've got a host of other problems to deal with at the moment.

He nods, not surprised to hear that she's already gathered information and done some searching. "Sounds like we should cover the rest of the floors, then, and maybe the surrounding area while we're at it."

Should he be moving around that much while still stitched up in a few different places? Probably not. But it's never stopped Steve before, and so he exits the room again, glancing up and down the hall. "I need to sneak back into the clinic for a second and grab my shield, if that's okay. Then we can keep moving."

She lets him change the topic, nodding as she turns fully now and moves to fall into step with him as he heads for the door. Hearing his plan has her giving him a skeptical look behind his back.

"That's a lot of ground to cover. And from what I've picked up, the floors above us that hold the living quarters for the residents here? They stretch on for quite a long while. Possibly infinitely and no don't ask me how, I don't know any more about magic than you do. I gathered what mentions I could of places other than bedrooms that exist upstairs - not a lot, but there's a diner, an art gallery, a bar... Everything else seems to be on the first floor, or close to it. Or outside, which I haven't gotten to yet. Besides, are you sure a hiking adventure is wise right now?"

Because you're still not moving very well, Cap, don't think she hasn't noticed that.

"Your shield arrived with you then?" That was helpful. "You're ahead of me, then. Showed up in my normal clothes, no tac suit, no weapons. I'm going to have to start bartering with my closet, see what I can come up with."

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