NATASHA HAD SEEN PETER FIGHT OFF A DOZEN MEN, effortlessly avoiding the bullets that they aimed at him. But he had been different- desperate. Hardened by his hatred for the men who were now storming in, tearing down the life he'd managed to build again.

He knelt to the floor, combatting himself internally to keep his terror disguised by indifference; Nat was painfully reminded of the fear that kept him up at night and on high alert at the slightest sound.

Gritting her teeth, Natasha yanked back with her right forearm, snapping the man's neck she had captured like a tree branch before dropping him to the floor; she moved to step forwards when someone slammed her into a wall. The Hydra soldier's weight on her back kept her trapped between him and the wall- with a lack of better options, she moved her hand slightly and began stretching her fingers for the penknife on the waist band; she'd seen it on all her victims.

It hadn't been helpful to them, but it would be helpful to her.

"Move." She whispered, inaudible to the soldier behind her, but she knew Peter could hear her with his enhanced hearing- his eyes flickered to hers instinctively. "Peter move. You can dodge the bullets and I can cover you, move." Nat hissed under her breath, anxiety slipping into her voice without her consent, betraying the fear warring with her adrenaline.

He barely blinked, expression almost apologetic.

Peter took in a deep breath and rose to his feet, clearly in pain but he didn't call out, instead he announced words that made the assassin's heart lurch.

"Shoot me." The soldier looked almost surprised.

"Trust me, I'd love to." He muttered, pressing the gun harder against Peter's head. It made Natasha's fingers twitch and finally grab hold of the hilt of the knife. But she froze at Peter's reply.

"So, do it." He turned to face the gun and away from Natasha's gaze.

For once, every emotion was on display, and it made his breath hitch to see genuine care and worry directed at him. His brain flitted over the past few months, of the life she had helped him build and of the home they had built together. Peter knew he'd never be able to thank her, and he'd run out of time to at least try; he just hoped she knew how truly sorry he was.

"There are easier mutates to capture and sell. I'm more trouble than I'm worth- so shoot me."

"Peter-" A guard tried to knock Natasha out, but she dodged and slammed their head against the wall with everything in her. She used the small knife and jammed it into their neck in one fluid motion. Letting out a small breath, the assassin whirled around and moved to march towards Peter when yet another Hydra soldier stumbled from the kitchen and quickly apprehended her, effectively blocking her off- she cursed under her breath.

The man scowled down at Peter before leaning in close, ignoring the redhead behind him and her attempts to approach him. "They have better plans for you." Peter frowned in confusion, heart hammering away in his chest when he felt the knife in his shoulder twist and the soldier kick hard at his injured leg- Peter cried out as he dropped back to the ground, his eyes watering.

He leaned back, dazed from the pain, and felt something clasp around his neck.

Alarm bells rang in his head and Peter's hands flew to the contraption, the familiar cold metal grated on his skin as he tugged and scratched feverishly. He looked like a wounded animal, trapped and scared; emotions flickered continuously across his face as his chest heaved.

"Chopper, we need removal. Target has been acquired. I'm coming up."

"N- no." Peter struggled out, his mind forcing out its haze of confusion as tears pricked his eyes as he wrestled with the collar, "No. I'd rather die." He growled, scooting back from the man.

He grinned fiendishly. "We'll guarantee it." He pressed a button on the remote he held.

Peter screamed out before he cut himself off, his words dissolving into grunts and gurgles as he spasmed uncontrollably amongst the glass shards. His fingers scraped the floor, leaving behind marks against the wood and his nails bloody.

At the awful sound that she knew would haunt her, Natasha spun around.

Words caught in her throat at the sight of Peter contorted on the ground, it threw her back to their first meeting before something wrapped around her neck and jolted her backwards. The agent didn't react to Natasha's struggle behind him and instead chose to watch Peter's head loll around for a moment before he lifted and attached him by a harness to his body. Then he turned to the ropes swaying outside of the window and began to climb with Peter as a deadweight on his chest.

Air rushed into Nat's lungs as she stabbed the guy holding her back in the thigh.

Her body dropped heavily to the floor, catching its breath. She coughed violently as Steve emerged from the kitchen looking beaten and bruised; he knocked the solider out with his shield before turning to Natasha, offering her his hand. The assassin gladly accepted, and he hoisted her back to her feet while he noticed the already purple tint on her neck- he winced at the sight of it.

"I've-" she grimaced but pressed on, "I've got to get Peter- stay with Harley."

Not waiting for an answer, Natasha approached the window. Hesitantly, Steve wandered over to the teen who was groggily blinking around, mumbling, "Peter? Pete?"

-

When Natasha landed on the roof, she took a second to assess the area.

Tony was attacking a helicopter from the sky, shooting down stray soldiers, and taking down their defences. Clint was on ground level in the middle of a group of Hydra, holding his own.

Steadying herself, Natasha's eyes zeroed in on Peter being dragged into another helicopter across the roof that had just arrived. Determination settled in the pit of her stomach as she marched towards the soldier, a hard look in her eyes; she imagined a million things that she would like to do to the man who jostled Peter carelessly. Each was more gruesome than the last and would have made her previous handlers proud of her ruthlessness.

"You've got my kid." She called over the whirring of the helicopter.

The man paused and looked over his shoulder as he dropped Peter. "He's an abomination. You should be thanking us." He announced, waving as the helicopter began to take off.

Not many men were left on the roof, and they all scrambled towards the vehicle as it started to hover a few metres above the ground. Natasha drew in a breath and made a run for it when they opened fire- a bullet only just missed her arm, forcing her off course and to duck for cover behind a wall.

Blood began to run down her forearm but she ignored it.

The helicopter was getting ready to leave. Throwing any caution to the wind, Natasha ran towards the edge of the roof, her feet pounding against the floor in an effort to spur herself on. Across the roof, Clint caught a glimpse of red and spun around on instinct; his heart jumped into his throat. His body was already running after the assassin before his brain caught up; he notched an arrow.

"Nat don't!" He yelled, panic slipping into his words.

His eyes widened in horror as she leaped off the edge, fingers outstretched and reaching towards the helicopter. Gravity took hold and her fingers scraped the bottom metal bar- and then she was suddenly plummeting to the floor, air rushing past her body and doing nothing to slow her trajectory.

"'Tasha!" Screamed Peter as he rose higher into the air.

The world was blurry and out of focus, but he could see her figure falling and falling- he tugged helplessly at the handcuff keeping him inside the helicopter, wanting to jump out after the woman. "Natasha." Her name cracked on his lips as he slumped forwards.

She stared up at the helicopter as it turned away, when something attached itself to her utility belt.

Her whole body jolted, making a gasp escape her lips as her descent stopped. Clint let out a breath of relief as he leaned over the edge of the roof, keeping a firm grip on the grappling hook he'd attached.

Natasha breathed out and stared after the helicopter as she hung over New York. 

A/N

I hope I did the characters justice and that the fighting wasn't boring to read or anything because I struggle so much with writing fight scenes.

Natasha jumping after Peter is such an awesome image in my head and I hope it is for you guys as well because her hanging over New York is *chefs kiss* beautiful in my mind.

Anywho! Let me know of any spelling mistakes! xoxo.