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Bang Bang

Summary:

The Avengers, including your girlfriend Natasha, are all unconscious, and it’s left to you and Frank (the pilot) to go save them. Nat has been shot.

Natasha x Reader (female)

Work Text:

 

You were in a panic. All of the Avengers were down, except the Hulk. He was smashing things with little discrimination or remorse. You listened to your comm.

 

“What the hell just happened?” Fury yelled. You could hear him, though he was hundreds of miles away at command.

 

“I think someone got them with a flash-bang.” You replied. “From what I heard.”

 

“It incapacitated all of them???” Maria questioned.

 

“It was a hell of a flash-bang?” You responded. You weren't sure. The pilot, a guy named Frank, was trying to patch into the security cameras for the building. It was taking too long.

 

“I'm going in.” You said, lowering the back door of the quinjet.

 

“Stand down, Y/N. You aren't a fighter.” Maria ordered.

 

You grabbed your go-bag. “No, I'm the medic. And my people are down.” You hopped down the stairs.

 

“That was an order, Y/N.” Fury stated bluntly.

 

“So fire me later.” You hit the ground running, finding the door that led into the building below. You were worried about all of the Avengers, but mostly, one thought raced through your head. NatashaYou had to find Natasha.

 

You could hear screams and grunts from the comm that had somehow managed to stay in the Hulk's ear. He'd been hit with the grenade too, but it had just pissed him off. You weren't sure how you were going to calm him down. Frankly you were hoping he didn't smash you, too. For some reason The National Enquirer had been posting articles for weeks about how Natasha could calm Bruce down with just a touch of her hand. They were completely wrong. She had done it successfully exactly twice. But the news had taken a non-story and made a romance out of it. You rolled your eyes as you opened the door, peeked in, and slunk down the stairs. You knew first hand, Nat wasn't interested in the Hulk.

 

Your boots made a slight squeaking noise on the solid cement steps. You were glad Tony had given you a tactical jumpsuit to wear as well, only yours had a giant red medical cross on the back, to try to keep you from getting shot. You doubted it would work, but eh, whatever. It was nicer than the highwaisted nomex pants and man-shirts you'd been forced to wear in your previous job on an ambulance. Society seemed to think that making the same uniform and calling it a woman's size would work- in reality, it had taken Tony Stark of all people to figure out men and women aren't built the same, and therefor need different garments. Wait, of course it would be Tony who figured this out. You cleared your head. Now was not the time for wandering thoughts.

 

At the bottom of the stairs, you braced yourself. You could hear a commotion on the other side of the door. You looked down. A dean guard in black armor lay beside the door. You stooped, picking up his firearm. You cautiously checked to see how many shots you still had. Three. Great. It would have to do.

 

“Frank do not follow her. I repeat, do not follow her.” Fury's voice drew you back to reality. “Frank? Do you copy?”

 

“You got a plan?” You jumped as you heard words spoken behind you. You whirled around, and discovered the speaker was Frank.

 

You caught your breath. “Jesus Christ, Frank, I almost shot you.” You closed your eyes for a second. “Fury is calling you, why aren't you responding?”

 

“Took my comm out.”

 

“God damn it, is Frank with you, Y/N?” Fury sounded pissed.

 

“Uh, nope, haven't seen Frank.” You replied, shrugging at the man beside you. “Comm is cutting out. Gotta go!” You made static noises, pulled the comm, and tossed it on the ground. “We're probably fired when we get back.”

 

It was Frank's turn to shrug. “Our team is fucked. We gotta do something.”

 

“Right. Well we have medical supplies, a gun with three bullets, a pilot, and a medic.”

 

“So... bust in, gun's blazing? Or... gun blazing?” Frank raised an eyebrow.

 

“Good a plan as any. I need to get to Natasha.” You opened the door a crack, peering into the room beyond. The Hulk was at the far end of a huge auditorium. He was being fired at by multiple guards and agents. He was going a pretty good job of destroying them, and the bullets seemed to be bouncing off of his green skin. “Hulk has all the... bad guys? What do we call them?”

 

“Uh... fuck. Bad guys works. They certainly aren't good guys.”

 

“Okay. Hulk has all the bad guys distracted. We need to sneak in...” you stopped talking. You saw Cap begin to stir. He sat up, looking around, bewildered. “Pssst. Cap!” You hissed. He turned and looked at you.

 

“Y/N? What the.... what are you doing here?” Cap stood, trying to decide whether to help the Hulk or come to you.

 

“Saving your asses.” You crept in the door. “Is anyone wounded?” You asked.

 

Steve got up, his eyes surveying the damage. He made quick strides to Natasha, scooping her up and rushing to the door. Your heart sank. Not Natasha. He handed her off to Frank. “Take her to the jet. I'll get the rest of them out of here. She's the only one who's been shot.”

 

You watched as Steve raced back, and began dragging Bucky towards the door.

 

“Go!” Steve ordered. You nodded, and you and Frank raced back up the stairs. Once back in the jet, he lay her across several seats. She had a gunshot wound to her upper thigh, and shrapnel from something jutting out of her arm.

 

“Frank, take that metal out of her arm, disinfect it with... that stuff over there. And wrap it up. Tight.” You dropped the bag of supplies. You found your pocket knife, sliding it up the inside of Natasha's pant leg, exposing the wound. You sighed in relief. A thigh wound could hit an artery and cause a person to bleed out. Luckily, this wasn't the case today. You felt around, palpating the leg. Her femur didn't seem to be affected. You were just finishing up, when a strong hand reached up and grabbed you by the hair.

 

“Stop hurting me.” Natasha's voice echoed in the jet. Steve was just boarding, Bucky propped against his shoulder, Thor and Wanda following, and finally Sam.

 

“Nat, baby, it's me. You got shot.” You replied gently. You knew she didn't know where she was; she was barely awake. “Let go of my hair, love. You need to let me fix you.” You spoke calmly. Natasha loosened her hold on you, opening her eyes. Her pupils focused on you, and she smiled. Her hand dropped from your hair, and her slender fingers brushed your cheek before she let them settle on the bench next to her.

 

“Hey, beautiful.” She peered at you.

 

“You're safe. Just relax.” You assured her.

 

“Did you come get me?” She smiled. You filled a syringe with morphine, and injected her. You knew she was tough, but you also knew she was in pain. A lot of pain.

 

“I did. Yes. Me and Frank.” You replied, bandaging her leg as best as you could. It would take a surgeon to get the bullet out. The morphine was working fast. Natasha reached out for your hand.

 

“I can't hold your hand right now, love. I'm busy. You hang on for me, okay?” You spoke to her softly. Natasha wasn't a woman to be trifled with, and publicly she never spoke to anyone the way she spoke to you when you were alone. But blood loss and morphine could create loose lips. You really weren't sure what kind of drunk Natasha was.

 

“You're my hero, babe. When we get home I'm going to-” She began to speak. Oh, that's what kind of drunk she was. An amorous one.

 

Shhh, shhhh. Everyone on the ship doesn't need to know what you're gonna do.” You grinned.

 

“No, but shit, now we want to know.” Bucky was looking from you, back to Nat.

 

“Babe? Love?” Steve's eyes were wide. “When did this happen?”

 

You turned to the others. “Sorry, guys, I dosed her pretty good.”

 

Clint had made it back to the jet, dragging a bedraggled Bruce Banner with him. “Clearly.” Clint spoke up. “Nat never talks about her relationships. Not even yours, which is weird because she actually really likes you.”

 

“Relationship?” Steve looked at me. “When were you going to tell us?” He queried. He looked hurt that he hadn't known, yet Clint had.

 

“Shit, Steve, Y/N and I have been together for months now. Months!” Natasha waved her hands in the air. “She's my best girl, as you old people put it!”

 

“Oh my God, Y/N, what the hell did you give her?” Tony's voice echoed in the plane. Out the window, you could see him keeping pace with the taking-off jet, in his Iron Man suit.

 

“Morphine. She's never had this before?” You replied, finishing the bandaging.

 

Steve shook his head. “No. She never let any other medic inject her with anything.”

 

“But... she's been shot before. She handled those injuries with nothing?” You looked down at your girlfriend. Shit. You knew she was tough, but that was just ridiculous. “Nat, we're going to have to talk about trusting your medical personnel when you recover.”

 

“I do trust you, boo.” She crinkled her nose up. “I feel good now. You should come lay down next to me.”

 

You rolled your eyes. “Medical personnel other than me, babe.” You looked around the jet. “Anyone else need first aid?”

 

Everyone shook their heads. You checked them out anyway, and when you returned to Natasha, she was sleeping soundly. Frank had done a good job on her arm. You sat down and gently placed her head in your lap.

 

Wanda sat down next to you. “How is she?” She asked, concerned.

 

“She's going to be fine, I'm pretty sure.” You finally let yourself calm down. “Thank God.”

 

Wanda nodded. The two of you exchanged a weary look.

 

“Everyone seems surprised.” You finally said. “Am I not good enough?”

 

Wanda shrugged and shook her head. “I knew a long time ago. But Nat keeps everything close to her vest, you know. She's never told us about anyone she's been romantically linked to. Except Bucky, but only when he remembered it finally. And she really didn't want to talk about it.” Wanda put a hand on your arm. “They aren't surprised it's you. They're surprised it's anyone at all. To be honest, probably everyone is happy it's you. We all like you.”

 

You felt a hand snake up and brush your cheek. You looked down. Nat was opening her eyes again.

You put her head back on the seat and crouched beside her. She pulled your face down close to hers, and brushed a kiss across your lips. You smiled.

 

“You feeling okay, love? How's the leg? A scale of 1-10?”

 

“It's like a five. I've had worse.” Natasha frowned. “Why are you not kissing me?”

 

“We're on a jet, in front of everyone, you're hopped up on pain pills and shot to shit, and... fuck it.” You bent down, kissing her again. You’d come very close to losing her.

 

A collective “Woo hoo!” was resounded by every Avenger on the plane. You turned bright red.

 

“Aw Nat has a crush. Adorable.” Tony quipped from outside in the sky somewhere.

 

“We'll never hear the end of it, will we?” You asked.

 

“Probably not.” Natasha murmured. “It's okay though. When I'm back on my feet, I'll get them back.”