Out of the Dark

Chapter Two

Tony and Natasha stood under the awning near the landing pad, watching as the quinjet climbed closer to the Compound.

"My money is on Sam," Tony said, looking at Natasha over his sunglasses.

Tony was looking less put together than usual. He had an old jacket thrown over the t-shirt hugging his figure, his dark jeans covered in oil, and his hair was sticking out all over his head, like he hadn't used a brush in days. For all Natasha knew, he hadn't. He spent most of the night working on Peter's new and improved suit, and hadn't gotten around to changing just yet, despite Bruce's insistence.

Natasha raised a brow. She, on the other hand, looked impeccable, even with her hair thrown up in a messy ponytail. She was wearing her leather jacket and Clint's favorite pair of form-fitting jeans.

"You know. Who it is that needs Cho. It's basic deductive work. I bet Clint stayed back with the jet, and since Steve and Bucky have their enhanced healing-" Tony shrugged. "It's obviously Sam."

Natasha looked over her shoulder toward the doors behind her then held out her hand. She didn't usually do bets with the guys, for obvious reasons, but it didn't feel like robbing Tony. He had enough money to go around. "Steve; martyr complex."

Tony smirked, taking her hand and shaking it. "Easy money."

A minute later, the Quinjet landed and the metal ramp opened up. Tony rubbed his hands together maniacally beside Natasha and she rolled her eyes at his overconfidence, amusedly.

That is until the group walked out. A young girl, who couldn't be older than 20, was walking in the center of the group, with Steve and Sam in front and Bucky and Clint following closely behind.

Tony's face hardened and he looked to Natasha, who looked no less thrilled by the development than himself. It was the girl from the file Sam sent over.

That was a lot to unpack.

They were still decrypting the file, but they didn't need to know exactly what was on it to know that it had to be something pretty bad to get her locked up in The Raft. Tony wasn't sure why Fury had the Team go there in the first place, but he sure as hell knew it wasn't to break someone out. The Raft could have released her, but from the stuffy stoic look on Steve's face, he doubted that was the case. Questions would have to wait though.

Tony and Natasha opened the doors to the Greeting Parlor as they approached, and the girl was looking increasingly distressed as her eyes flickered over the room.  As massive as it was on the outside, it was nothing compared to the inside. Apparently dark was a general aesthetic with these people, red furniture standing out in the various hues of black and metallic grey. It was clean looking, almost overly so, like it had been plucked straight out of a magazine. It was more than a little intimidating.

Natasha, saint that she was, forced a polite smile when Wren finally seemed to notice them, but Tony had never been called a saint. He looked from he baggy clothes and matted hair with barely concealed distrust.

"Make a friend, love?" Natasha asked Clint as they walked over to the sitting area, her voice dripping with poison-laced honey.

"Oh no. This isn't on me," he scoffed, holding his hands up in surrender. "Talk to them."

Steve rolled his eyes, shedding his leather jacket and draping it over his arm. "Is Cho here?"

"Waiting in the MedBay. We didn't know how bad it was," Tony answered his eyes flitting over her again scrutinizingly. She didn't look hurt. Just like she needed a shower and a good fifteen hour nap. Not that he could judge.