Issue 1 Downtime

In truth, Stan's repairs had been quite good and had required little correction. Still, Lingstrom had taken his time and done his job well. Now, Natalya was in a room, still on her back and on a steady diet of pain killers, but she was lucid when she was conscious. This was one of those moments. Her eyes traced the tubes running out of her arms and occasionally looked towards the dimmed lights as the doctor had instructed her, slowly acclimating her senses to input again.

"Took awhile before they'd let me back in here," a familiar voice said from the doorway.

"I nearly died," she said quietly. "They wanted to make sure I didn't make another run at it."

"Oh, I let them do their jobs. Still hard to see you this way."

"Try being on this side of it," she smiled weakly. "You can come closer, you know. I don't bite."

"No, but it seems Carter still does," she said as she walked to Natalya's bedside.

"You talked to the queen bitch herself?" Natalya raised an eyebrow. "I'm sure she says this is all my fault."

"Got it in one."

"Well, she may have me this time," she sighed.

"Would barely give me the time of day on this, otherwise. I felt what happened, though."

"I remember it being one hell of a fight, but that's about it." She frowned, "You'd think I'd remember something that would generate that much psychic noise."

"Felt like someone turned your own power on you... and that was before you froze yourself."

"Wish I could tell you, but it's just not in the storage. I've been trying to call it up, but it just doesn't seem to be there."

"Not uncommon with trauma, I'm afraid."

"They tell me they think I'm going to be okay in time. A lot of healing to do and probably physical therapy. Apparently getting stabbed through the back messes up your muscle groups, even if you have someone like Stan to fix them for you."

"...aye. I'm just... glad you're going to make it."

"Thanks," she said. "So did the queen bitch have any other words of wisdom?"

"She intends to have your career over this."

"She's just mad that the old man listens to me." She tried to force a smile, "But she probably will have her way this time. He'll probably have me resign for medical reasons just to save me the embarrassment and that'll be that."

"All for uncovering a HYDRA lab."

"Damn snakes. If it isn't them, it's AIM. We knew the intel was dodgy going in, but I didn't want to risk losing them if we waited. Not my best judgment call ever."

"It cost SHIELD some good agents, I'm afraid."

"Yeah," she said, almost too quietly to hear. Even without trying, Sam could feel the depression settle over Natalya.

"I'm sorry. I just... didn't know if they'd told you yet."

"No, they hadn't. But I'd guessed it. If I ended up in this shape, things probably weren't good for my team." She looked at the light again for a long moment and then up at Sam. "Can I bum one last favor off of you?"

"You know you always can, Natalya."

"Can you get me a laptop... or something with a keyboard? No rush, but..." She paused for a long thoughtful moment, "I have a resignation letter to work on."

"...aye. That won't be a problem, I think."

"Thanks... for everything." She reached up to touch Sam's hand, her muscles still a little hesitant.

"You've always got a home with us," she said as she clasped Natalya's hand. "If you want it."

"I appreciate the gesture," she said, "but I don't think you really want me around your kids. Knowing me is apparently hazardous." She forced a smile, "I should probably have a surgeon general's warning tattooed on me somewhere."

"...perhaps you've heard that our history teacher ran afoul of an international smuggling ring?"

"I do remember seeing something about that cross my desk. I distinctly remember laughing and round-filing it."

"We keep odd company, as always."

She thought for a moment, "What would you want me to do? You know I don't like to freeload and your situation there is pretty settled."

"I wouldn't say no if you wanted to be a security consultant."

"I could probably handle that once I'm back on me feet. I was afraid you were going to ask me to teach."

She snorted.

"You wouldn't be the most antisocial one on the faculty."

"I'm not anti-social, I'm just selectively social."

There was a knock- Stan stood in the doorway.