Injured, drugged and most likely dehydrated. Natasha needed to get him out of here now, needed to get some nutrients in him. An IV drip, preferably, on top of solid food.
    Luckily, despite the visible confusion, the slow thinking, Trevorâs memory seemed more or less intact, had remained aware during her absence enough not to drop the necklace, had remembered it without prompting.
    âThank you. Nice workâ, she replied, taking it back with a squeeze to his hand before clasping it back on. With her hands freed, Natasha carefully eased the back of his shirt over his head, so she could then slide it down his arms, all of it requiring very little movement from him. The reverse process was applied to slide his stunt doubleâs shirt on, stinking of sweat, vomit and blood â stiff with all of those contents, too.
    âYouâll be out of here in a minuteâ, she promised, returning to the stretcher and dragging the cadaver off of it. Now, getting him onto the stretcher without inflicting severe pain was impossible â the best she could hope for was not doing permanent damage to his leg, and without drawing attention to themselves, even if howling around these parts was expected. They couldnât risk someone coming in and hoping to have fun as well.
    âHere.â Natasha pulled the belt off of her uniform, folded it in half and offered it to Trevor, in a makeshift mouth-guard. âIâm going to put you on the stretcher, and then I need you to roll on your front while I set up that other guy to replace you. Bite this if you need to, but donât scream.â
    What she was doing would have been obvious if Steve was more lucid, but he was still a little confused when she removed his shirt. He was glad he didnât have to move much. This was all a little too much for his addled state. He felt himself slipping, even as he tried to maintain concentration. It clicked when she dragged the dead body from the stretcher. Steve stared warily at the dead man, then turned his gaze back on Natasha.Â
    Confusion drew over his face again as she offered him the belt. The look quickly turned into a grimace as she explained. Right. Steve took the belt. He glanced at the stretcher, back at Romanoff, and nodded without a word. He wouldnât scream. He remembered holding out for his captors, he could hold off the theatrics for his rescuer.
   It turned out to be a little harder than expected. The fresh wave of pain knocked him off guard. He almost pulled away from her. It had dulled to an ache after sitting in that position for so long. The movement wasnât well received. Natasha was as careful as she could be. Steve felt as if he could bite through the belt. He was acutely aware of the wetness on his face as he drew the belt from between his teeth. He breathed hard through his nose, panting heavily as he settled on the stretcher as she had directed.Â
   The pain sobered him a little, made his head somewhat clearer. Like splashing cold water on a drunk in winter. Still unsteady, still hazy, but less confused, more alert. It took a moment for him to calm down and his pulse to stop its rapid beat. In its place was the near-taste of relief. She would get him out of here.
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