Not Until We Are Lost

Natasha would never admit that she truly enjoyed holiday lights, and that she'd even started enjoying Christmas once Clint and Laura started insisting that she spend them at the farm with their family. It didn't always work out, but the two of them were usually able to finagle some leave at some point in December so the Bartons could have their Christmas and Natasha could take a break from being a spy and just be Auntie Nat for a bit.

When she woke up in the cabin, she almost thought that she was on the farm for a minute. At least, the Christmas decorations and general homey feeling seemed awfully familiar. It only took her a few minutes of looking around to get past the disorientation and realize that this was just another stop in the alien abduction tour. (tm)

She found her way out into the neighborhood and noticed the rest of the cabins. She figured it would be one cabin for each of them. It would make it easier to find than the 'wildlife preserve' that she'd found herself on first.

She had to find Bruce. With every location change, there was always a chance that he could lose it. And a part of her just felt better having him around. So she started to knock on doors. She had stories ready if those behind the doors weren't members of their group, but she figured taht this was the quickest way to find him.

Natasha had long since lost the two teens she'd found upon arrival. She found herself worrying just a little about them, but they'd chosen to wander off. Their fate was in their own hands at this point. Or so she told herself. She'd spent her time exploring and gathering supplies. She found a cave to hole up in. She'd even taken down one of the idiots prowling around with guns. From what she could tell, they were trying to 'poach' some of the superpowered people running around here. A little interrogation turned up information that this was some sort of reserve. She'd left the poacher alive, but too banged up to hurt anyone else. And she'd taken his weapon and bullets. Hunting was a lot easier after that. Natasha Romanoff was many things to many people, but survivor would always be first on the list.

She'd kept an eye out for any hint of green. If this place was a reserve for people with abilities, there was a good possibility that Bruce was in here somewhere. Or more likely, the Hulk. She just hoped that if he had Hulked out, she'd be able to talk him down when she found him.

She was currently making her rounds to see if she could find Bruce or any of the others, and looking for supplies. She'd eaten recently, but her eyes were peeled for any animals or edible vegetation as well. She'd transitioned fairly easily to the life of hunting, gathering, and taking in whatever information she could. It wasn't the first time that she'd had to live like this, and it likely wouldn't be the last. Perhaps the aliens had taken her specifically because she could adapt to just about any environment they might throw her in.

Emma Frost ran through the landscape of her own mind, scrambling over fuzzy memories with jagged edges - there was the time she'd first learned her mom was an alcoholic, and that was the moment when she'd first touched another person's mind - in a mad, desperate race to stay one step ahead of the burning monster.

( And to think the day had started off tolerably well... )

This wouldn't be the first time that Natasha had disappeared into a role to play. At least her role in the physical education department allowed her to keep up with her training sessions. And getting the chance to teach self defense classes to some of the co-eds felt like a worthwhile use of her time. After all, she knew full well that the world could be a nasty place for someone who was unprepared to deal with the physical threats that it posed.

She kept an eye on the news reports of the Avengers that were running around this world. There were a lot of familiar names and faces in them, but there were also some that she didn't recognize. And others.... well, there were some that she remembered as SHIELD files and nothing more. It would certainly seem that this was some sort of mirror world to hers. Similar, but just different enough that it was best to lay low and take notes. And she had a feeling that avoiding her doppelganger and having Bruce avoid his was the best course of action.

And while every so often, students would look at her with confused recognition, most didn't seem to give much thought to the idea of a PE teacher being the Black Widow. She blended in here, and most seemed to brush off the name and the physical resemblance as a coincidence. It was better that way.

Once she'd had the chance to settle into her new role, Natasha took to searching campus for others of their group. She'd had the chance to observe quite a few while on the ship, so there were faces and even names that she recognized. It would seem that they'd been assigned roles as both students and teachers, likely depending on their skill levels. And there was one other person in her department that she'd seen flying around the pirate ship. Natasha thought that it was well past time to introduce herself, so she stopped by Ms. Prince's office one evening. She could have made an appointment, but this felt like it would be better off handled casually. So at a time when she knew the other woman would be in, she headed to the office and knocked.

Waking up initially wasn't so bad. The bed was actually quite comfortable though it was a little colder than he remembered when he had fallen asleep. There was no hint of motion, no steady rocking that unnerved and comforted him both at the same time. Another thing to be grateful for. Ship and gigantic green monsters were not a suitable mixture in any dosage and he was glad he no longer could endanger the lives of those in close proximity. However, Bruce did recall saving a life and there not being any danger. It was a curious thought, something to dwell upon more later.

For now his attention was drawn else ware. It seemed he was in a smal room, something similar to what his own quarters had looked like in college. The bed was smaller but comfortable, there were fitted sheets in a neutral color. Further examination of the room Bruce noticed a desk with a briefcase on it, a laminated ID badge and a small stack of papers. Curious. A collegiate sports pennant clung to one of the walls. A small television was settled in a nook on a not-very-sturdy looking entertainment type center. A small kitchen boardered the living space divided only by a small countertop lined with linoleum. He guessed the kitchen would have a microwave but probably nothing else. Maybe a dishwasher. It wasn't really an apartment per say, but it was. It was on campus near the student dorms, but reserved strictly for faculty.

Sliding out of his bed, Bruce noticed the simple closet on the opposite side of the room. Had he a uniform it would have greeted him with its presence amidst his clothes. Lucky he didn't. Instead he found both professional and casual attire, things he would have chosen for himself had he been given the option. After a shower, he was dressed casual in a long sleeved, buttoned down pastel blue shirt that he left open at the throat. Foregoing the tie, Bruce opted for a cardigan with a deep V-neck, rolling the sleeves up to his elbows. The slacks were the same color as the cardigan, and the shoes on his feet were comfortable and meant for a lot of walking and standing.

Perusing the desk, Bruce found himself Dean of the Science Department, teaching a few classes of Advanced Physics. His forte. His heart was racing. Staring dumbly at the lanyard and ID badge, Bruce couldn't believe what he was seeing. They wanted him to teach physicis? To who? Aliens?

A glance out of the window proved his theory about being on a campus. The quad and corridors crawled with eager students, some moving in couples, some in flocks and some on their own. Teens and twenty-something's of all types could be seen. This was some kind of a joke. Right?

And where was Natasha?

Further inspection of the desk rendered him a cell phone, and a few other things. At least this wasn't a ship. It was better, more normal. He just hoped that it would stay that way. For the sake of the campus.

He needed to find Nat and quick. So on the turn of a heel Bruce left the apartment and went to search for the red-head, hoping she was close by. Hoping she was still there at all.

[OOC: The ship is hitting some rocky waters so other characters are welcome to fall overboard as well as Natasha]

Life on the ship was an exercise in patience. Natasha hadn't seen Bruce since their... well, disagreement wasn't quite the right word, but it wasn't the wrong one either. They had certainly both walked away unhappy. She knew that she wasn't managing things with him as well as she could have. She just hoped that it didn't blow up in everyone's face. She was determined to try again soon, but she needed time to get her mind straight. And she needed to find that Doctor he'd talked about and try to get some answers.

Currently, she was swabbing the deck. Someone had to do it and she'd certainly done worse jobs as part of a team. For better or for worse, those on the ship were a team. Natasha knew that being stuck in such close quarters could get dicey very quickly, so she didn't mind doing some of the less popular jobs in an attempt to cut off any resentment. Then again, there were many jobs on the ship that weren't ideal and she couldn't very well do them all. Even she had limits.

She was near the railing when it happened. In hindsight, she would think that she should have known better. She should have seen the waves coming. She knew better. She knew to keep an eye on the waters ahead, both metaphorically and now literally. And yet, she hadn't this time.

So when the waves slammed against the boat in a particularly violent movement, Natasha found herself falling overboard. She took a deep breath and tried to stay calm, all of her Red Room training working in that moment. And then she slammed into the water and something wrapped around her waist and pulled her beneath the surface. She struggled, attempting to extract herself, but whatever it was just squeezed tighter.

The newest change of scenery was a gigantic pirate ship. It was different, just like everything else she'd seen since she'd landed on the Centurus and then at that resort. Since she hadn't returned to the Centurus in between the resort and here, Natasha thought that it was likely that she had left one screwed up situation for another. She would adapt and roll with the punches like always, but that didn't make this any less off-putting. Even super-spies needed time to catch their breath now and again.

And catch her breath she did. She'd gone from the midst of battle with monsters in all forms to the relative peace of this vessel. She knew better than to expect the peace to last for long, but she would take the breather when she could get it. She just had to hope that she was able to locate Bruce quickly. It was very important that the Hulk not make an appearance on this ship if she could help it.

She would go searching for him soon. For now, she took a moment to look over the side of the ship and just take in the view. There were creatures swarming beneath the surface that made her uneasy, but the view itself was breathtaking. Ocean sprawled in every direction for as far as the eye could see. The sun was just dipping below the horizon, splashing pinks and oranges on the waves and across the sky. It was beautiful. Though she knew full well that beauty could conceal a much darker nature. She supposed that time would reveal what was in store for all of them on this ship and in this sea.

Natasha didn't have the chance to note the time when all hell broke loose. She just knew that one minute, things were quiet along the beach. And the next, not so much. Something came galloping her way with a loud roar. She found herself looking into the face of something that was gigantic, scaly, and a had a mouth full of teeth. She smirked a little. Kind of reminded her of the aliens that had tried to take Manhattan. Granted, she'd had a full team backing her up then, but she wasn't going to just roll over and die for one thing that looked like it had been whacked repeatedly with an ugly stick.

She pulled out both her guns and aimed for the thing's face. If it got close enough, it would taste the sting of her bracers. But she had to hope that bullets would take it down before it got too close.

She also had to hope that this was the only creature loose in here. If anything else got in, she had a feeling that Bruce's other half would make an appearance. If that happened, she would need to be nearby to help talk him down before too much damage was done. The Hulk was a good ally to have in a fight, but he was still as much a wild card as anything else. She just had to hope that she could make quick work of this creature and find Bruce.

Natasha didn't have enough to do with herself around the hotel. She'd snooped in just about every square inch of the place, but had yet to venture outside the wall. It would happen eventually, but she wanted to be sure that she knew what they were dealing with. Unfortunately, she hadn't learned anything new just yet. She was also keeping an eye on a certain scientist with a tendency to turn into a green rage monster. She did this both from a distance and up close. It was easier when the 'target,' so to speak, wanted someone to watch out for him. No one wanted to avoid a Hulk-sized outbreak more than Bruce. Though Natasha thought that it would be more useful for him to learn to control his other half than it would be to try to avoid him ever turning into the Hulk. She knew more than a little bit about embracing one's darker side to get things done.

On this particular night, she decided to seek Bruce out around dinner time. She figured that it might be easier to have a private meal rather than risking the lines at the buffet and whatever other chaos might be out there. If she were being honest with herself, maybe she needed the privacy as much as Bruce might. She had many public personas that she used, depending on the situation. It was rare that she had the chance to simply be. And while she was still getting to the point with Bruce that he got to see some of her hidden self, it was the closest she got to that level of comfort.

She walked the well-trod path to his room, two doggie bags worth of food in hand. The scent of pasta and cheesecake mingled together as she shifted both bags into one hand to knock. She waited for some form of answer. She didn't question much whether or not he would be in there. She'd started to learn his patterns and where he might be found at any given time. It was survival for herself as much as for everyone else to do so, but perhaps it was seeking comfort in the form of the known when so much else was unknown. Perhaps.

Bruce shuffled back toward his room.

He had things to tell Natasha when he found her. Lately the spy had been on his mind, he didn't really know why. A friendship with the spy was risky, anything more? Dangerous. Bruce was the kind to be destined alone forever, Hulk was too much of a risk to anyone he was close to. Natasha was a trigger, she knew what she was getting herself into and once she had mentioned a Red Room, but Bruce knew she couldn't stand up to a squishing from the Hulk. And he couldn't live with himself if he hurt Natasha. Or anyone. But mostly Natasha.

Shuffling down the hallway, Bruce looked at his feet. He couldn't imagine being at any kind of a formal dinner with anyone else, but he supposed that if the moment came then...no. No. He couldn't.

Finally he approached the room where he had worken up and he saw that flash of red hair coming toward him. There she was. Natasha.

He was glad to see her. He breathed out and stopped partway to the door.

"Hey. That guy Roy we met wants to get together for dinner...he found his blonde friend," Bruce explained.

"And there's a gym..." She might want to use it.

He was terrible when it came to talking to women. What would Tony do....

Not something very nice. That was for sure.

Clearing his throat, Bruce nodded, "...so, did you find anything else that might be interesting?"

Dean tore the note on the nightstand up, put on the hideous clothes he'd been left, which unfortunately included shorts, and left the room as fast as he could. There were no weapons here and he didn't like that, but he was nothing if not inventive.

And he didn't like the tone of that note.

He needed Jo. He needed Sam. He needed Mary, and shit, it'd be nice if the universe would throw him a goddamn bone and maybe toss in Ellen.

He was knocking on every door he passed, irritating a number of guests and staff, and finally a maid directed him outside to the bar and threw a lei around his neck. She told him to try the shrimp cocktail and not go beyond the wall.

This particular bar was actually near to the one little security area there seemed to be on that wall. It was a tiki-shack sort of thing, and all Dean could say for it was he felt marginally less stupid about his appearance as he approached. The guy behind the bar was in a grass fucking skirt.

He was looking everywhere, his head never stopped moving, looking for his family. On the walk here he'd kept bellowing for Sam and Jo. No answer. His heartrate was going up.

He sat at one of the barstools and the grass skirt guy slid him something in a coconut. Dean grimaced and was about to say something about not drinking girl drinks when he noticed the woman next to him drinking something in a coconut, too.

He wanted to find Jo, but Dean wasn't dead, and she was very, very pretty. And familiar.

She must be one of them.

"You get a fun note, too?" he asked her.

Logan opened one eye, sunlight from the window making him squint immediately. He grumbled and rolled over, taking a moment to process that the window was different than the last window he'd seen.

The one with the jungle outside and the rumbling ground. The one with the packs of dinosaurs.

His jaw muscles jumped slightly under his skin as he sat up. His expression was surprisingly calm, considering what he'd just pieced together. Then again, disemboweling a down pillow was not going to help anything for anyone.

There was a digital alarm clock next to the bed, with a lamp and a note on fancy hotel paper. Logan opened it and read.

Apologies.
Companions may be gone...

He immediately thought of Mary, after registering that he'd been unconscious for a very, very long time, and things could have been done to him--no matter what that note said. "I'm not a fucking Transport," he muttered.

It didn't take Logan long to get out of his room and explore. He had a permanent scowl on his face when he realized that the attire in his closet was more than just a suggestion. At least they'd left him his dogtags, and his trademark white undershirt. Once he was outside, his scowl was partially hidden behind sunglasses. He asked a waitress with a cocktail tray where they were and she was dismissive. He asked a lifeguard on the beach and he was even less help, and then he said something very interesting.

Enjoy your swim. Remember the wall is for your protection! Do you have sunblock?

Logan turned away from the kid almost immediately and continued on his quest for more information about the wall.

If he knew Mary, she'd be on the other side of it. He had to find her. And if not her, then Eleni. He'd take any Stark he could find.

Anyone he knew.

When Natasha first woke up, she figured that this was the work of the crew of the Centurus. She'd been stuck on that godforsaken ship that was little more than some sort of interstellar reality show, and she'd been at their mercy as they beamed her down to whatever planet they desired. She figured this was just another one of those planets. If so, it might have seemed better than the last few. Then again, looks could be deceiving. She was certainly evidence of that, was she not?

She looked around for her mobile device and didn't find it. That didn't bother her all that much, since posting on the network had gotten her into trouble in the last place. She did have to wonder how that had turned out. Those people caught in that revolution couldn't have fared well. She'd tried, but she was a little afraid that their group had made things worse for everyone. The only thing that bothered her was being out of touch and having no easy way to find out who was here or not. She wondered if Steve, Sam, or Clint were anywhere around. The only way to figure that out was to explore.

She didn't worry too much about her clothes. She was dressed to blend into the setting, which appeared to be a posh beachside resort. Clothes simply served as camouflage for any given environment, though she was a little more put out that her weapons seemed to be missing. She didn't need her guns or her widow bite bracelets, but they would have made things easier if there was trouble.

She set off to explore the hotel and eventually found herself out on the beach. The waves crashing against the shore was almost peaceful, if she could ignore that she hadn't come here by choice. All the same, she was capable of stopping and admiring beauty where it could be found.