Peter might have resorted to carrying her, at this point. His urge to sprint all out almost consuming him. Shuri—she had threatened his life to call her by her first name—had just caught up to him, and had just yanked the blindfold off his friend. He hadn't thought that far. "Peter? Shuri? What- why are you-"
"We're saving you." Peter interrupted.
"I know that, but why? I killed people, Peter. I- I don't know who they were, but I killed someone, and I didn't regret it." She didn't let Peter say more, even though he wouldn't.
"You have never killed anyone, Willow. That was HYDRA. Not you. HYDRA killed them." HYDRA killed her. Peter knew that, and Peter didn't blame Willow. He'd looked, deep down, but he just... didn't. All he felt was worry, and anger. Not anger for Willow, but for the people who changed her. Worry for his friends, and the family he had left. Whether they were blood or not, he loved them as family, and family was what he cherished.
He was pulled out of his surprisingly deep thoughts by a question, "can you put me down, Peter?" He was reluctant, knowing what his friend might do. "I won't go running off to Mr. Stark." She added hesitantly. Without words, Peter put her down, slowing so that she could get into speed. His Spidey sense tingled - arrow, no danger. His spidey sense didn't work when others were in trouble. Peter heard the arrow pass just behind him, lodging itself in the wall, with the clinking of chains. He turned to see Willow, chains pinned to the wall with an arrow, which was buried deep. "Go. I- Peter you... she..."
"I will not let you go back to anywhere unsafe. I will not let you be taken prisoner-" he was cut off.
"Peter, I killed your aunt." She expected him to look angry, or mad, or just turn away, but he didn't.
"No." It wasn't disbelief, she knew. It was knowing. "No, you didn't." He took a couple steps toward her, ready to yank the arrow out from where it lodged itself inside the link of a chain, when Natasha Romanoff landed in, and took it out herself. Peter grabbed Willow, and carried her bridal-style wherever they meant to go.
"Was she part of your stupid 'Steal A Criminal' Plan?" Willow asked.
"I knew about it. These two couldn't make a plan in secret for the death of them." The Agent spoke for them.

Peter had been hacking away at her restraints, while the Widow fidgeted with a phone the scrawny girl knew didn't belong to her. Working for Director Fury didn't get you an iPhone 5. Suddenly, she recognised the scratches. The one crack that looks like the Stark logo standing out from under Ms Romanoff's fingers. It was her phone.
The agent tossed her phone back, and Willow opened it up, to find it was opened to settings. The ex-assassin had turned off tracking, and she hadn't noticed.

At the start of the book, I wrote in first person... so I'm going back to that. Also going to present tense cuz it might be fun!

I don't know how long it's been since I didn't think about the house I live in. My fear for the Crazy Council, the Chris Community, and the Violet Toms. Yes, the Crazy Council had given names to the children. It was nature. It was fun.
  Despite what it looks like, I'm struggling. I'm remembering.

  I thrashed, and kicked. I opened my eyes, to find that I didn't even know who I was. I saw a man, and got scared. He could be bad. I was here, tied up, with no memory. At. All.
 
  I pushed the window up, and it slid silently, to just wide enough to fit me. I was told this woman, May Parker, was a bad person. An associate of Spiderman. And she was. My blade, a silver one they had found embedded in my shoulder once they saved me, twirled as if I had practiced for years. As if it was made for me.

As I cleaned up, I grabbed the blade, wiped it on the carpet, making an S with the blood.

I curled up on myself, suddenly tired from what little I did that day. Shuri sat beside me, texting her brother on matters that affected my innocence. My conscience was wavering, and I succumbed to sleep.