Author's Note: This is just a quick little one shot that picks up right where Captain America: Civil War left off, with Steve walking into the Raft prison. This is a little bit AU because I couldn't help but add a little Clint Whump in there.

Also, quick note to anyone who's following my other story Out of the Ashes, apologies that I'm behind with updating! I hit a bit of a stress induced block, so I decided to finish up this story instead to hopefully help me work through it. I'm hoping that I'll be able to get the next chapter moving again and hopefully get it out this weekend.

Sam smiled. "Damn it's good to see you."

Steve returned the smile, though it didn't quite meet his eyes. He glanced around. "Everyone okay?"

At that, Sam looked serious again, and Steve felt an uncomfortable churning in his stomach.

"Priorities are to get Clint and Wanda out," he said grimly. At that, Steve glanced around for those two, not immediately seeing either. "Clint is on the other side of Lang," he said, leaning his head to one side. "Wanda is over there," he nodded behind Steve.

Steve nodded, but reached out and pulled the control panel off of Sam's cell. "Well, I'm getting you all out." He yanked out the wires from the wall, wincing slightly as they sparked. But it had the desired effect. With the power from the cell cut, Steve was able to muscle the door to Sam's cell open.

"I'll get Lang, you get Clint," Sam said as he stepped out. "Then we'll get Wanda. Are we expecting any hostiles?"

"No, I took out the entire staff," Steve assured, already moving toward where Clint's cell was. "A distress beacon went out, but the beauty of this thing being in the middle of the ocean is that it'll take at least an hour for help to arrive."

"Good," Sam said as he started working on the control panel outside Lang's cell.

Steve turned to focus on Clint's cell, and froze for a moment in shock at the sight. Both Sam and Scott Lang had been simply confined in their cells, which Steve had expected for Clint as well. But that wasn't the case. He hadn't initially seen Clint because he was sitting at the back of the cell, propped in the corner with his legs stretched straight out in front of him, his eyes closed and his hands resting in his lap. But his hands weren't visible. They were both completely contained in heavy metal shackles.

"What…?" Steve said quietly, unable to reconcile what he was looking at with any sort of logic. He had expected extra precautions to be taken with Wanda… but Clint?

"He almost escaped from his cell," Sam said flatly, giving him a sideways glance as he worked. "According to Ross, he got closer than anyone else ever had. So, they decided to add an extra security measure. Those things shock him if he tries to move his hands."

Steve stared for an extra moment in horrified shock, feeling sick, before he finally remembered himself and sprang into action. He got the door open as easily as he had Sam's.

As he stepped into the cell, Clint's head shifted, his eyes sliding open as he focused in on Steve. Inexplicably, a smirk crossed his lips.

"Fancy seeing you here, Cap," he said, his voice hoarse.

It was then that Steve had to wonder how long Clint had been in those restraints… and how he was supposed to get food and water with his hands contained like that.

"I could say the same thing to you," Steve said, though his tone was strained as he crouched down next to Clint, eyeing the bulky device that contained his hands. "What do you say we get that off of you?"

Clint shifted slightly, and just at that small movement Steve could hear the electronic hum followed quickly by a sharp zing. All of Clint's muscles locked up for a moment before abruptly releasing, gaining a small, hissing groan from the archer.

"I'd say that's easier said than done," Clint said, suddenly sounding breathless, wincing.

"Lang is working on getting Wanda's cell open," Sam said as he suddenly appeared next to Steve, looking down at Clint's restraints. "Can you break it?"

"Not without some movement," Steve said grimly with a shake of his head.

"I can take it, Cap," Clint said, his lips quirking momentarily. "Just get it off."

Steve nodded as he carefully reached out, feeling for the seams in the device. "This would be a lot cleaner if I had my shield," he said quietly, almost to himself.

"Where's your shield?" Sam asked, confused.

But Steve didn't answer, instead concentrating on the task at hand. The only way he could see to do this was one at a time… which meant one of Clint's hands was probably going to get more abuse than the other.

"Which is your dominant hand?" Steve asked the archer quietly.

"Left," Clint answered.

"I'll start with that then," Steve said.

Clint nodded once in his consent, rolling his neck slightly and seeming to brace himself.

Not wasting any more time, Steve placed his fingers along the seam of one side of the restraint. He went slowly at first, doing his best to bend the metal without jostling the contraption, hoping to spare his teammate any more pain.

The effort was in vain though.

As soon as he got a decent sized hole in the thing, he heard the hum of the shocking system. At that he quickly yanked the restraint open, but not fast enough to spare Clint the shock that buzzed through it, his muscles locking up again as he squeezed his eyes shut and all his muscles painfully locked up. As Steve tore the metal free, Clint's muscles released and he gasped, his eyes still closed.

"Do the other one… now," Clint said in a low, breathless voice.

Steve immediately complied. He repeated the process, not bothering to start off slow this time. As he tore at the metal, he could hear the buzzing from the shocks, but he didn't stop until he was able to toss the vile contraption free of the archer.

This time, as his muscles released from the shock paralysis, Clint started to tilt to one side, sliding down the wall before Steve could reach out and steady him so he wouldn't hit the floor.

"Hey, hey," Steve said quickly. "You still with us, Barton?"

"Yeah…" Clint breathed, his eyes sliding open blearily. He reached up one hand and placed it on Steve's forearm. Steve's gaze snagged on the gesture as he saw that there were tremors running through the archer's hand. "I'm good. Go…" he swallowed painfully before he looked up and met Steve's gaze. "Go help Wanda."

"I got him," Sam assured as he moved closer.

Steve nodded his thanks as he switched places with Sam so that he could help Clint while Steve hurried out of the cell.

Wanda's cell was isolated from the others, set on the opposite side of the circular room. By the time Steve crossed the room, Scott had the cell open and was standing awkwardly in the doorway. He glanced at Steve as he approached.

"She won't let me near her," he told him quietly, sending him a worried look. "You might have better luck."

Steve nodded somberly as he surveyed the inside of the cell. If he had thought Clint's conditions were bad… Wanda's was worse. She was collapsed on the floor in the corner of the room, her knees pulled up and shoulders hunched in a protective way. She was tied into a straightjacket, a thick metal shock collar wound around her neck.

It was a sickening sight.

"Wanda?" Steve said carefully as he took a small step into the cell.

An anxious hum escaped her as she cringed in on herself, her feet pushing and slipping passed each other on the floor as she tried desperately to push herself further into the corner. It was a small reaction, but spoke profoundly of what she had been through. And upon seeing her panic, Steve couldn't help but stop in his tracks. Carefully, he backed up to the doorway, and Wanda stilled once again.

"What's going on?"

Steve turned to see that Sam had approached, supporting Clint with an arm thrown over his shoulders. The tremors seemed to be getting worse instead of better, Steve observed grimly.

"She panics when I try to get near her," Steve said.

There was a tense pause.

"Let me try," Clint spoke up, his voice thin but steady.

Steve nodded. He knew that Clint was going to have the best chance of any of them at getting close to her. He moved out of the cell in order to make room. Sam moved forward, still supporting Clint, who's movements were weak and unsteady. Still, as he passed Steve saw that his eyes were sharp and focused.

As the pair took several steps into the cells, Wanda tensed again, whimpering as she dropped her head and leaned further into the wall.

"Stop, stop," Clint instructed Sam under his breath. Sam obeyed. "Lower me down." Carefully, Sam crouched, bringing Clint with him. Clint winced slightly at the motion, but carefully balanced himself down onto one knee, bracing one trembling hand on the floor. "Okay, I'm good."

"You sure?" Sam asked skeptically.

"Yeah, just… don't go far." Clint shot him a pained smirk.

Sam nodded, staying in his crouched position as he backed up. For a moment, everything was still. Then Clint carefully moved, taking a painful, shuffling step forward.

"Wanda, look at me," Clint said in a low and surprisingly steady tone. Wanda froze at the noise. "Wanda," he repeated in a gentle but firm voice. Finally, her eyes darted in his direction, wide and afraid. "I know you're scared, kid. It's okay to be scared. But you gotta let us help, so we can get you out of here. Look, they had to do the same thing for me." He held up his hands, putting his tremors on full display. "It hurt a little, but now I can get out of his godforsaken place. Problem is, we can't leave without you."

There was a tense pause. When Wanda made no effort to respond – but was staring at Clint steadily, which seemed like an improvement – Clint shuffled forward another small step. She flinched slightly at the movement, but didn't panic like she had before. Steve felt hope rising up within him.

"Wanda," Clint said carefully. "Cap can get that collar off of you. It might shock you a little in the process, but then it'll be off and it won't hurt you anymore." He paused. "Will you let him help you?"

Another pause. But then, finally, she lowered her chin and then lifted it again, never looking away from Clint.

Clint gave her a warm smile; which Steve saw as a feat in itself in a place like this.

Slowly, Clint shifted to one side – subtly shifting from a crouched position to a sitting one, looking worn by the effort – and motioned Steve forward with a lazy swipe of a trembling hand. Steve moved steadily, mindful to not make any sudden movements. Wanda didn't seem to take any notice of him though, her eyes pinned on Clint, her gaze one of a scared child looking to their parent for comfort.

"Easy, kid," Steve said gently as he crouched down next to the frightened teen. "It may sting a little, but this will just take a second."

"Eyes on me, Wanda," Clint added steadily just as Wanda's eyes started to drift. "I dunno about you, but once I get out of here the first thing I'm gonna do is order a large pizza with everything on it. And I'm gonna eat the whole damn thing."

Steve couldn't help but smile to himself as he carefully searched for a seam in Wanda's collar. Clint Barton was one of a kind.

"Okay, here we go," Steve warned as he found a seam.

He flexed, hoping to break the collar quickly and as painlessly as possible. Unfortunately, he just couldn't catch a break with not causing his teammates pain today. The collar was thicker than Clint's shackles had been, and it took precious extra few seconds to pry it apart. In that time, Steve could hear the buzz from the collar, could hear the choking sound coming from the teenaged girl as the shock paralysis took over, could hear Clint giving her quiet, calm encouragement.

But he couldn't focus on any of that. Straining, he yanked the vile contraption apart, throwing it to one side in disgust.

As Wanda fell, Clint was lunging forward to catch her, despite his trembling hands. Steve felt himself go pale as he saw her go unnaturally still, several thin streams of blood running down her neck.

"Is she…?" he couldn't finish the question.

"She's still breathing," Clint said quietly as he quickly looked her over. "I think she's just exhausted. This was too much for her body to handle." He looked at the small cuts on her neck. "These are superficial wounds, the metal scratched her when you took it off." He looked up at Steve, his gaze comforting. "She'll be alright, Cap."

"We gotta move," came Sam's voice as he took a careful step into the cell.

"I got her," Steve said, moving forward to take Wanda from him.

As Steve hefted Wanda up into his arms, Sam entered the cell to help Clint up. As he slung one of Clint's arms over his shoulder and helped him to stand, the man swayed dangerously, his eyes sliding shut as he paled. Steve eyed him unsurely, but with a fortifying breath Clint seemed to reach into some deep reserve in order to pry his eyes open again and steady himself.

Steve led the way out with Scott falling in to step on the other side of Clint, helping to steady him as they carefully made their way through the eerily deserted hallways of the Raft Prison.

They moved with more urgency as they reached the hanger where Steve had left the jet, knowing that their window for a clean getaway was closing. As they piled in to the jet, Sam passed Clint over to Scott so that he could head up to the front of the jet and start up the engines. They were already taking off as Steve settled the unconscious Wanda onto a low cot in the back of the jet.

He left Wanda to Clint and Scott as they worked to remove the straightjacket, heading up to the front of the jet to give Sam the coordinates to Wakanda. As they left the prison behind, Steve hung behind the pilot seat, his eyes searching anxiously out the window for any sign of incoming aircraft. It was twenty minutes of clear skies before he felt some of the tension releasing from his shoulders.

It looked like they got away clean.

Steve turned to take in the rest of the team. Scott was sitting on one side of the jet while Clint was kneeling next to the cot that Wanda lay on. Feeling concerned, Steve walked over to the two of them, hovering behind Clint and looking over Wanda for any sign of waking. But she was completely still.

"She'll be okay with some rest," Clint said quietly before Steve got the chance to ask. The archer heavily leaned back, carefully flexing his trembling hands and grimacing.

Steve nodded, taking in Wanda's still form and feeling the guilt gnawing away at him. To distract himself, he shifted his gaze to Clint.

"You handled the situation well," Steve said. He wasn't sure how they would have gotten to Wanda if Clint hadn't been there to calm her.

"Yeah well… she's an abused kid," Clint said flatly, his gaze falling to study the tremors running through hands. "That's… something I understand."

Steve frowned. It suddenly hit him all over again how little he actually knew about the archer.

"I'm sorry to hear that," he said quietly.

But Clint just shrugged, unconcerned. "Whatever I went through in the past is the reason that I'm here. It's the reason that I joined SHIELD, which put me on the path to meet Laura and have three amazing kids. It's reason I'm an Avenger." He looked up at Steve and smiled. "It was a shitty road that brought me here, but this is where I'm supposed to be. I wouldn't change a damn thing, Cap."