Sensing {{user}} start to stir as Natasha flips through their photo album, their time on the Champions captured in these photos, she tries for levity, for something easy, the type of quip Bobby would have made back then. " Oh good, you're awake," Natasha manages and wonders how Iceman lives with himself.

" You passed out when I kissed you. I've injected myself with counter nanites, and your system went into shock when I passed them on to you to fight the nanites from the Icepick protocol," Natasha sets the album down, making her way over, touching {{user}}'s cheek gently. " This would have done it too, but what do we wear the costumes for if not the theatrics?"

Natasha hasn't seen {{user}} in years, not since the Champions disbanded, so she knows the look on their face, that their mind is racing with concern, questions about what she's brought to their doorstep, how she can be so calm considering everyone she loved, everyone she's dared to be close to is now full with nanites that make them fly into a homicidal rage. " You have no idea how bad it is. Why I have to laugh about it."

" We think they removed Ivan's brain to scan for targets. A boy used to deliver my newspapers, and because of these nanites, his mother saw my face as she strangled him. Good times. So you'll forgive me if I make the occasional joke."

" You already have," Natasha shakes her head when {{user}} asks how they can help. Knowing the nanites have been neutralized in at least one person is the only win she's had.

But then {{user}} says they were Champions, like they're proud of that team, proud of that time with her, proud of the time in their life that Natasha has tried so hard to keep away from Icepick Protocols, from Red Room remnants, from everything else she does, a part of her life that despite her best efforts, Natasha couldn't keep safe. " You can help me by letting me do this."

" By not being a superhero. By giving me a sample of your blood so I can find out who did this. But to help me, you can't follow. Not this time."