Special Touch Part: Three

Chapter Thirty-Two

The roads were virtually empty as you reached Connecticut with Sam at the wheel and your eyes stayed on the darkened road, only the headlights and the occasional streetlight illuminating it.

"Have you slept at all?"

"Mm," You considered lying, but you both already knew the truth, "Not so much."

"We've got six hours left; don't you think you should be well rested?"

His question wasn't really finished because it should've tacked on 'for whatever we're about to face' to the end of it.

"Tony, Bruce, Clint, Fury, Hill, and Bucky haven't heard from her in almost two days," You told him, avoiding the question, even though by saying this, it kind of felt like you were answering the question and you hoped he'd pick up on that, "I haven't heard from her in...about twelve hours, give or take."

His jaw tensed and he shifted in his seat, but you barely registered it as you unplugged your phone from the car adapter, sighing in a mix of frustration, tiredness, and overall anxiousness. You hadn't had an attack in ages, but it was looking inevitable at this point.

Hearing from Bucky, how he immediately gushed about how well Cory was doing being under, eased your mind and fears for a while, assisting with your anxiety about Natasha, but that quickly wore off as the hours went on.

Thirty texts, forty calls, and nineteen voicemails.

No response.

As much as you wanted to keep your strained eyes open, your powers couldn't heal exhaustion, and you drifted off against your will soon enough.

When you did wake up a while later, the sun blinded you immediately, and as soon as Sam spotted you blinking rapidly, trying to adjust, he grinned.

"Just in time," He patted your knee, "Ten minutes away now."

You sleepily glanced back at the other two and gave them a tired smile with a small wave, making them chuckle. They looked like they just came from a spa weekend, completely flawless and well-rested, but it only made you groan before turning back to the view of Manhattan.

Your phone went off, making you jump, and you couldn't have grabbed for it faster, clicking accept without even registering the contact.

"Nat?"

"No, sorry sweetheart," Bucky's voice was filled with pity and you sunk back into the seat, "But I've got some good news for you."

"Unless it's a location on my w-"

"Hi, mom!" Cory's cheery voice came through the phone and you put a hand over your mouth, immediately tearing up.

"Cory?" You choked out, squeezing your eyes shut, "Hey, buddy, how're you feeling?"

"I'm eating a cupcake and I was freakin' right, these things rule," He started to ramble and you just smiled like the other three were in the car, "Mr. T'Challa said I could go home with Uncle Bucky soon," He hummed around his next bite, his mouth clearly full when he spoke again, but you could make it out, "And Shuri's been showing me some really awesome – wait, what's that? Holy shit!"

"Cory." You groaned with a smile, knowing you should scold him for the language, but not really caring all that much.

"M'Baku got me a coat! It's so fluffy, I want to die – no, Mr. M'Baku, that's a good thing!" He was giggling, "You looked so stressed, it was like a prank! But I didn't mean it."

Sam was pulling onto the street of the tower as Cory talked to those around him, keeping you on the line, and as much as you loved to have your kid back, you needed to focus on finding his other mom before you could let this all sink in.

"Listen, bubs," You started, cutting him off when he went to talk around another bite about his view of Wakanda, "I have to get to work," It felt so weird to say that, knowing that Fury had officially reinstated you just days earlier, and then you winced when you realized your first mission as an avenger was going rogue – second being to find his missing best assassin, "But I'll call you when I can, okay? I love you, Cor."

"Love you too, mom," You could tell he was smiling, but keeping his voice down because he was a little shy when it came to saying it around others, "Very much."

"So happy you're back." You couldn't help but to whisper.

"Yeah, me too," He chuckled, his voice back to a normal volume, "That was crazy, and I don't think that me would've enjoyed the chocolate chips in this cake as much, I'm serious, mom, when we get home, we gotta get some."

"Promise." You laughed lightly and Sam pulled into the parking spot, the three of them getting out soon after.

"Alright, little man," Bucky's voice came over the phone, "Let your mom go kick some ass."

"Bye, mom!"

"Bye guys!" You called back, wiping at your tears as you hung up the phone.

You had been crying and laughing all through the call, but the second you peered up from the phone, your face fell serious and you stopped crying.

You didn't even look at the others as you made your way inside the building, not stopping for security check ins, and headed straight for Fury's office. When you got up there, Clint was already standing by his side and you glared at him as if this was all his fault, but then he had the audacity to smirk at you.

"Problem?" You snapped and he huffed out a small laugh, shaking his head.

"No problem here." He smirked again, shrugging this time, and you were done.

"I'll take you out before I go after Natasha if that's what you're looking for, crew cut," Your tone was dangerous and Fury raised his eyebrows, oddly intrigued by your anger, "So, why don't you try a new attitude on for size? Maybe one that involves finding your fucking best friend, you knock-off piece of-"

"Agent!" Fury cut in, standing from his chair with his palms leaning on the desk, and you were more taken back by the title than anything, "We don't have time for this."

"Fine," You took a deep breath, peeling your glare off of cupid, and glancing at the director, "Give me everything you have and send me in, no back up," They opened their mouths to object, but you were already continuing, "I don't trust most of the people in this building and this is Natasha, so I'm not fucking around," You were angrily rushing your words out, but he was taking them as demands, "The second I find her, I'm killing anyone in the immediate perimeter and I'd hate for some of your agents," You spat the word, sparing a glance at Hunger Games, "To be collateral damage."

"You can't be serious." Clint muttered when Fury seemed to be considering it.

"If it was between you and literally anyone else on the team or anyone in this fucking city," You didn't even know where all this anger was coming from and you found yourself pointing at him with a death glare, "I'd throw you in front of the bus – or off a cliff – so fucking fast."

"We'll get you a location, but it could take a day." Fury was telling you, already back on his computer.

"No," You shook your head, "I don't have that long."

"What? Why?" Clint furrowed his eyebrows in confusion, but you ignored his dumbass questions.

"Eight hours." Fury offered; his eyes set on yours.

"Three." You told him before turning to leave and you flipped Clint off on your way out the door.