Changes (A Prequel to "Through, Together")

All for One

Natasha hopped down from the roof, her booted feet landing noisily on the hood of the truck. Another jump took her back down to ground level, where Sam and Steve were assessing the situation.

"Any sight of her?" Steve asked. He had some dried blood on his face, and some not-so-dry blood glistening on his shoulder.

"No," Nat said with great reluctance. She looked at Sam. "Did you see anything? Hear anything?"

Sam shook his head again. "I don't know," he admitted. "I mean... the smoke hit us like a wall. There was a pretty bright flash of red, and then just... nothing." He looked at the ground and cursed under his breath. "I might have heard some tires squeal up ahead, but with everything going on, it was hard to gauge a direction."

He looked between them, a deep frown on his face. "I'm sorry, guys."

"It's not your fault," Steve assured him.

"No," Natasha agreed. "But I know whose fault it is."

She turned and stalked back through the mess and chaos to where Garrett had been left. "Son of a bitch..." She cursed when she got there. Garrett was gone, too.

"Damn..." Sam said from behind her. He and Steve had followed her over and were just as discouraged to find nothing but empty space. "Now what?"

"I had a little run-in with 'Lady Dust'," Natasha said. "Left her in a dumpster a few buildings back."

Steve recognized the look in Natasha's eye. It was cold, angry; vengeful. But there were sirens in the distance, and they would be here soon. As much as he hated to admit it, Steve knew they wouldn't be able to stick around. They had to get out of here, try to regroup, and figure out where Wanda was taken.

"We have to go." He said, his voice firm.

Natasha looked at him as if he were crazy. "I just need five minutes." She said. Her expression darkened a bit. "Actually, just give me two."

Steve shook his head. "And risk still being here when the police show up? Nat, we can't. You know we can't."

He was right, of course. She knew that they needed to get out of here, but that didn't mean she wanted to. It sure as hell didn't mean she had to be happy about it. She stood, hands on her hips, taking a few, frustrated breaths. Natasha considered being stubborn, obstinately insisting that she go back for Lady Dust, but she could see fatigue and a hint of desperation in Steve's eyes. He needed her to go along with this. Sam did, too. He was hurting, Natasha could tell. Not that she wasn't hurting, too. Her anger was just helping her forget some of that pain for now.

"Fine," she finally said. "Are any of these cars still driveable?"

Garrett had made off with the vehicle that rolled up to the back of the alley. The Volvo was out of commission, as was the truck it had run into. There was another, black SUV that some of Garrett's people had piled out of, though, that seemed to be good to go. They found it with the doors open and the engine still running. Perhaps its occupants had planned on making a speedy getaway. Their bodies littered across the pavement was a pretty clear indicator that, that wasn't going to happen. They weren't going anywhere anytime soon. Except maybe to jail.

Nat got into the driver's seat while Steve slid into the passenger seat beside her, and Sam practically fell into the backseat. He was wincing and holding his rib.

"You alright?" Steve asked, looking over his shoulder with a concerned expression on his face.

"I've sure as hell been better," Sam grumbled. "Just a cracked rib. I'll be fine."