SHE WAS EATING HER SANDWICH WHILE THEY SPOKE. They hadn't hurt her, despite what she had expected, instead escorting her up to the penthouse common area she had seen when she first broke in, the two men glaring daggers at her, on the offensive and ready to act should she so much as make any sudden move. She quickly identified them as Steven Rogers and Anthony Stark, though they referred to each other as much different.

She was sitting in the corner eating her sandwich while the others all spoke. It took her some time to identify the names of the two that she hadn't been aware of—the woman with the gun and the man with the bow and arrow, whom she quickly learned were named Natasha Romanoff and Clint Barton, though she had been told they didn't live at the Tower—but she was able to recognize the others, Arabella Rivendell seated between the two, Steven and Anthony—they were called a variety of name variations—standing and facing Bruce who had placed himself between them and her.

"She's harmless, Tony," Bruce pressed, one hand clutching the arm that was outstretched desperately, "She didn't try to hurt me since JARVIS trapped her."

Tony scoffed, pointing a finger towards her, looking at his friend in disbelief. "She tried to kill you, Bruce. Tried to kill us, she—" he took a deep breath, raising a hand to his mouth, "She tried to kill you."

"But she didn't," Bruce groaned, looking over towards the others for help, two of which she had been told do not reside within the Tower regularly, "You understand."

"Tony's right, Bruce," Steve said, Tony making a sound in the back of his throat, "She came in here with the intent to kill all of us, and you told us your findings, she was enhanced. Just like I was."

"Not quite the same, yours was a serum, hers was like a drug, it has to be replaced every so often, she's practically detoxed at this point," the older man said, looking over towards where she was eating her sandwich, awaiting her sentencing.

"I'm sorry, are you saying she's not completely?" Tony demanded. When Bruce didn't react immediately, the man groaned, clutching at his head. "Brucie! Are you insane?"

"She was a victim, Tony, she doesn't know anything, she's been kept in total isolation," Bruce continued, looking towards Natasha who was eyeing the woman with a careful eye, "We don't know what they did to her or what they made her do."

"Considering she tried to kill us, I have a few ideas," Tony snarked, and Bruce held his gaze, forcing himself to take deep breaths, the younger man softening slightly, "Bruce, it's not that I don't trust you, it's that I don't trust her."

She nodded along with his statement, taking another bite of her sandwich. He had no reason to trust her, what with her being sent to kill him and his teammates, but she didn't understand why he was the most upset, especially considering she had clearly failed, yet the man was nearly close to tears, shaking with the force of his anger and fear.

She could see the fear in his eyes and in his body, she didn't need her serum to be aware of that.

"Well, what do you think we should do, Tony?" Steve asked, and she wondered if she was afraid at the prospect of the man being in charge of her fate.

The man seemed to flounder, opening and closing his mouth before sighing, burying his face in his hands. "I don't want to hurt her, I just want her gone. I don't want her here where she can hurt you—" he choked, shaking his head.

"Tony," the blond whispered, reaching out to touch his arm, and Tony pulled away, shaking his head, "Tony, we're all okay. But I agree, I don't know how safe it is for her to stay here."

Bruce seemed to be getting more agitated, his voice growing deeper, pointing a sharp finger towards her. "She's sitting there eating a sandwich three feet away from us, does she look like a threat."

Now was when she felt a true jolt of fear. She watched as everyone turned to the defensive, though they all seemed to be ready to comfort should they have the opportunity, and she found herself scrambling to get away, jumping when he rounded to look over at her, his skin turning green and his jaw set.

She watched as he began to writhe about, taking deeper and deeper breaths, seeming to fight against a force she couldn't see, and she watched in horrific awe as the green hue began to slowly retreat, and she wondered how he had so much control over the monster; she didn't even realize that he and the monster were one and the same.

She wondered what created the monster at all.

"I'm sorry," Bruce whispered, his head hanging low, sweat trailing down from his forehead and sticking his clothes to his body.

"Sit down, Bruce," Steve said, motioning towards the chair next to Natasha and Arabella which she kicked out easily, the older man sighing as he took a seat, bending over and rubbing his face with his hands.

"She tried to kill you, Bruce," Tony whispered, and Bruce only sighed, nodding in understanding, but not defeat.

"But hey," Clint said, looking around at his teammates, then over to the woman who had hardly said a word, simply watching them while eating, "I mean...Natasha was made to do a lot of things in her time. And Loki—he had control of my brain just a few months ago. Do you guys not trust us?"

She raised her eyebrows at his statement, looking around to the others who all seemed to visibly sag, looking towards the two with sad, weary eyes, the two assassins looking back with unreadable expressions.

Arabella Rivendell, who had been quiet the entire time, turned towards her, giving her a shaky, yet kind smile. "What's your name?"

She only blinked at her, unsure of whether or not to speak, instead letting her silence speak for herself. 

In the end, it was Bruce who spoke. "She doesn't have a name."

It was as if all the air was sucked from the room. Every single person turned to stare at her, all with varying degrees of pity, understanding coming from Natasha on more levels than she was willing to admit aloud.

While they all stared at her, she simply continued to eat her sandwich, trying to understand all the flavors she was tasting, the texture so new and so different, but not necessarily bad. It was a good sandwich, she decided, not that she truly understood what good was.

"Hey, sweetheart," Tony called out and, despite never having heard that phrase before until his first words to her, she looked up, knowing that he was addressing her, "You really don't have a name?"

She shook her head, forcing herself to speak. "If I do, I do not remember."

Clint made a pained sound, looking towards the others desperately. "We can't just get rid of her."

Steve pursed his lips, nodding, turning towards the shorter man, giving him a look. "I agree with Clint, Tony, but this is your Tower, and it is, ultimately, your decision."

Tony scoffed lightly, looking down at his shoes, glancing up towards him with a tense smile. "The one time you're letting me call the shots, Cap?" 

Sighing, he looked over at Bruce who had raised his head from his hands, looking up at him with pleading eyes, his hair mussed and his eyes tired. "You sure about this, Brucie?"

Bruce nodded solemnly, setting his jaw. "I'm positive, Tony. She's—" he swallowed thickly, as he tried to breathe, sighing finally. "Tony, she's dying."

That was the last straw. 

Tony snapped his neck up to look at her, and she held his gaze, hating how much she wanted to fidget and look away, hiding behind the large sweater that rested across her shoulders. "Let's find you a room, sweetheart."

º º º

She was led by Bruce to her room, none of the others wanting to go with her. At least, that was what Bruce muttered to himself as he closed the elevator doors, though he did offer up the reasoning that the others had; they had to do their debriefing with S.H.I.E.L.D. as these were their last excursions together; they would still live together, but their group would no longer be active.

She didn't understand why her clients wanted them dead if they weren't doing anything in relation to the public. She was led to believe that they were being constant menaces, but it didn't seem to be the case, what with their lack of any real damage within the urban population, at least from what Bruce explained.

Then again, she didn't know what to believe or even whether or not she did.

"You can just keep wearing my clothes if you need, I don't know if you'll fit Natasha's clothes, she's a lot shorter than you," Bruce explained, looking towards her, and she nodded, looking around the hall.

She noticed that they had passed his room, pausing in front of a room that was three doors down. Looking up at him with a furrowed brow, she motioned towards the door in silent question. 

Giving her a smile, he opened the door and pushed it open, and she paused, eyes wide as she took in the spacious room. There was nothing except a bed, a desk, and a TV on top of a dresser. She had a closet to her left and a door leading into a bathroom.

This was more than she would ever have had in her entire life.

"This was supposed to be Natasha's room, but she never stayed here, so we're just giving this to you, and Tony will set up another room for her just in case. We can get you more things later if you want, Tony wants me to apologize for it being so empty," Bruce explained, motioning towards the bed, and she glanced towards him, reaching out to touch the bed carefully.

"It's yours, spread out," he said, giving her an encouraging smile, watching as she moved.

Climbing up onto the bed, she gasped at the feeling, confused as to what she was experiencing. She looked over towards Bruce who was smiling at her reaction, and she turned back towards the bed, lying down flat.

"There's a blanket if you want," he said, motioning for her to sit up by the headboard, pulling the comforter back to let her climb underneath, "We're gonna change these soon, but you should get some rest now, at least while we figure this all out."

She nodded, taking the comforter and tugging it around her, a feeling of safety overtaking her, cocooned in warmth. She didn't expect to be comfortable with restriction, but this felt too good to be uncomfortable, her eyes beginning to droop, even as Bruce stood there, the man making his way out when he saw that she was starting to doze off.

Before she knew it, the door was closing, the lights shutting off, enveloping her in a comfortable, safe darkness, wrapped in the warmth of her blanket, lying on top of a bed that was so comfortable she could hardly acknowledge that she was.

Then she slept. Finally, once again, she was able to sleep.

AUTHOR'S NOTE

I'm fairly proud of the way this chapter went, because I kinda wanted to show more about the thought process of the others, but it didn't fit right, so we'll just find that another time. Also, each person is gonna have a nickname for her, and as we all saw, Tony's is 'sweetheart' and I love it so much.

Thanks for reading and I hope you enjoyed!