Everyone looked upon Emily with a sense of shock and slight fear. Fear not of her, but of her power. Emily looked at Steve and Bruce sadly, looked away, and walked back towards her home. 'You swore you wouldn't kill again.' a small voice in her said. I didn't. He killed himself. 'Same difference and you know it. You caused it.' He deserved it! How many lives had he already taken? And he would have killed me and Carlo if he had had the chance. The internal voice gave a sort-of shrug. Emily shook her head and decided she needed some stress-relief. There was too much noise. Too much confusion. She needed to shut down. She built a wall around her mind and shut everything out. Rather than going into her hut, she walked past it and up the hill.

There hanging on a tree was a well worn cloth sack filled with sand. She immediately set about pummeling the makeshift punching bag. Flashbacks began filling her mind. Her mother's face of surprise and anguish as the light left her eyes. Her father screaming at her and blaming her. Her fear as she ran away that night. Memories of her nightmares. The things she had seen. All of the sudden, she felt her fist sail right into the sack, ripping a hole in it. She watched, dazed, as sand began pouring out through the gash. She then growled in frustration and took her rage out on the tree, kicking and punching it expertly until she was bleeding, which she promptly ignored.

What she never realized was that her brother and new friends were watching her from a little ways away. What could they do? "Maybe I should go talk to her." Bruce said quietly. He started forward when Nat gently touched his arm and shook her head.

"Not right now, Doctor. It might stress you, and in her condition, she can't calm you down. She just killed a person. It's bound to bring those memories up. The first kill is always hard. She's not going to want to talk to you right now." Bruce still looked dubious, but trusted his friend's advice. Tony spoke up.

"Then who can talk to her? I don't do touchy-feely. Doc here could get mean and green. Which one of you guys is willing to?"

"I'll do it." Everyone looked at Steve in surprise. He set his face in an expression of determination. "I have the best shot at getting her to open up. She just killed a man. That's not easy. She's got a lot going on and I can relate best. Any arguments?" He looked at everyone, challenging them to disagree with him. Only Stark spoke up.

"Yeah? What if she goes all.. you know? Dark, creepy and homicidal? No offense Doc." Banner tensed but shrugged. "My point is, there's no stopping her. No fighting her. You sure you'll be ok?" If he didn't know better, Steve would swear that Tony was actually concerned. He gave an encouraging smile and nodded.

"I trust her. She's got control. She won't hurt me." With this, he went up on the hill to attempt to calm the conflicted young woman. He watched her in wonder. The speed of her punches, the lack of recovery time, the sheer power in her hits nearly rivaled his own. That's when he noticed the blood. Her fists were being mangled, the skin on her knuckles practically shredded. He decided to step in and cleared his throat. She whipped around, fist making a wild swing instinctively. He caught it with ease and held on, careful not to hurt her. Her eyes widened when she realized what she had almost done. She tried to take her hand back, but the man simply held on. "You need to stop. You're just going to hurt yourself more." He said quietly.

That small statement and the pause in her blinding motion broke her walls. She collapsed against him. The weight of what she had done crushed her. She had murdered a man. She had purposely ended a life in cold blood. How could she live with herself? She was weeping against the soldier's chest and didn't even notice that he had wrapped his arms around her. Steve looked down at this shaking girl in his arms. Was this really the same woman who saved that little boy and avenged his sister's death? When she looked up at him, tears in her eyes, his heart ached. He could only imagine the memories that were going about in her head right now. In that moment, he wished he could take away all her pain. Instead he simply wiped away a tear and led her to a nearby boulder. Emily was surprised that someone so large and strong could be so gentle. He examined her hands worriedly. "Wanna talk about it?" He asked quietly.

She shrugged and took her hands back, drawing her knees to her chest. "I've never killed on purpose before. Not like that. Never... I swore I wouldn't. But I just, I lost control. I saw little Rosa... I lost it. She was just a child! And then he did that to Carlos..." she choked back another sob and buried her head against her knees. Steve nodded and leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees.

"I remember the first time I had to kill a man. It's not something you forget. He was a German soldier. Before, I had always just knocked them out. But this mission, we couldn't risk him waking up. So I did what had to be done. It was so easy. It's the living afterwards that's hard. You never completely forget. But you're not alone. You have your brother now. And Clint and Nat can help too. And me, if you'll let me." He gently took one of her hands back, "Please? No one should have to go through this alone." He softly lifted her chin and looked pleadingly into her eyes. She blinked back the tears and nodded. He smiled and helped her up. "Now, let's get those hands looked at, ok?" She nodded again. He carefully helped her up and led her down the hill to the others. Bruce rushed over and held her as she cried into his shoulder, her quietly repeating over and over, "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry." He just held her and quieted her. Rogers murmured into Banner's ear about tending to Emily's hands. When Bruce saw the extent of his sisters wounds, his eyes filled with tears as he cradled her small hands in his.

The rest of the team decided to let them have their own moment in privacy and quietly slipped away. The Banners held each other in silence for a few moments before he gently broke the embrace to lead her away to her home to tend to her wounds, of body and spirit.

Their friends watched them leave from a difference and wondered just how their team would hold together with such a woman as a part of it. Could they trust her?