I cried for hours. The guys took shifts comforting me. I think I scared Nat when my eyes turned black, so it took her some time until she was able to help me.

Since Loki was healed and his vitals were good. Clint, Wanda, and Pietro were bringing him from the hospital in Seoul, Korea to the Avengers Tower.

Tony had the first shift in comforting me. He just held me in his lap, like someone would a child, and gently rubbed my back. Tony had someone from medical come up and stabilize my foot. It was only dislocated at the ankle, so it was an easy fix.

Thor had the second shift. He laid on the couch with me as I cried myself to sleep. Nightmare after nightmare woke me up and everyone knew that I wasn't going to be able to get much sleep for a while.

By the time it was Steve's shift, I had given up on sleep and was basically catatonic. He tried to talk to me, but I never heard him. My thoughts were so loud, screaming at me.

'You shouldn't have been there.'

'You should have told someone.'

'Coward!'

'Horrible!'

'Irresponsible!'

'Neglectful!'

'Murderer!'

"I called in some help." Tony told Steve. He was watching as some of his Ironman suits fixed the window I broke. "They'll be here soon."

"Good idea." Steve responded with a nod of his head.

"Do you need to switch out?" Tony asked. Steve looked down at how I was curled into his side and sighed.

"No." He told Tony. "I've got this."

Tony nodded slowly and leaned down to rest his forearms on the top of the couch.

"She hasn't eaten." Tony mentioned.

"I don't think we should push her right now. Let's just wait and see what the doctor thinks." Steve responded and readjusted his arm around me so I was more comfortable.

"Alright," Tony said and tapped on the edge of the couch before standing up straight. "It's your call, Cap."

Not ten minutes later, Nat and Thor strolled into the room holding pillows, blankets, and plushies.

"Alright, Rogers, move it." Natasha announced. "It's my turn with my girl."

For the next twenty minutes, Natasha covered the couch in comfy blankets and pillows before falling onto the cushion next to me. She gave me a soft plushie that I squished in my arms while she cuddled up next to me.

"Any movie preferences?" She asked and grabbed the tv remote.

"The Princess Bride." I said softly. Natasha froze, she hadn't actually expected me to answer.

"Princess Bride it is." She nodded and turned the television on.

Westley had just fallen down the hill when the elevator dinged open. I didn't look over to see who it was. I didn't care. I kept my eyes on the television, watching Buttercup roll after Westley down the hill.

"I can't even go on vacation for a week." Dr. Raynor announced as she walked into my living room. She sighed when she saw Nat and I curled up on the couch together. "Have you eaten?" Dr. Raynor asked and but her purse on the coffee table. Her hands found their way to her hips in her signature stance that told me she was waiting for an answer.

"Not yet." Natasha answered for me and brushed some hair out of my face. "We didn't want to push her just yet."

"Can I talk to you a second, Ms. Romanoff?" Dr. Raynor asked.

"Sure, Doc." Nat said carefully and looked at me before unwrapping herself from the blanket to get up. They walked into the next room to talk privately, not that I would actually listen if they talked right in front of me.

Westley and Buttercup entered the fire swamp and Westley explained how he became the Dread Pirate Roberts. I watched Buttercup fall into a sand pit and realized that that is how I felt. I felt like I was suffocating in a pit of sand. Like my lungs were being scratched by the rough particles of the sand. The only difference was, Westley pulled Buttercup out and she was able to take a breath of air. My Westley was in a coma... Not like I actually deserved to be saved.

"Sammee?" Dr.Raynor called to me. I turned my head toward her and waited. "Come talk to me in the kitchen while I make us some food."

"I'm not hungry, Doc." I mumbled absentmindedly and turned back to the tv.

"I still want to talk with you, though. So, could you please?" She asked and gestured to the kitchen. I sighed and paused the movie before getting up from under the blankets.

"Nothing you say can make this better..." I told her as I took a seat at the kitchen island.

"I know, so I'm just going to give you the facts." Dr.Raynor said while she boiled water for pasta. "More than 20% of pregnancies end in miscarriage. You, unfortunately, landed within that 20%." She told me. "An ectopic pregnancy always ends in a miscarriage. Most miscarriages happen between ten and thirteen weeks, but it's about six weeks for ectopic pregnancies. There was nothing you could do to keep from miscarrying."

"Says the laws of medicine on this world, but I have access to multiple worlds with more advanced technology." I countered.

"You couldn't have known the pregnancy was ectopic." Dr.Raynor told me.

"If I had fessed up sooner, I could have seen a doctor faster." I explained.

"That's all a 'what if' question. The facts are, you didn't know." Dr. Raynor emphasized. "Tell me this, if you had known there was a significant chance of miscarriage, would you have done things differently?" She asked. I looked at her, shocked.

"Of course I would have! You think I would have put my child at risk?" I answered, stunned.

"But you didn't know, that's my point." She told me. "Don't focus on all the 'what if' scenarios, focus on the facts." Dr.Raynor strained the pasta before adding pasta sauce and dividing the food between two bowls.

"The fact is that I was irresponsible and it led to my child's death." I was trying to explain why I didn't deserve to feel better. I hated that everyone felt sorry for me instead of feeling angry. I wanted to be yelled at, needed to be.

"How so? Did you intentionally get yourself hurt?"

"No, but I still put myself in danger." I sniffed and bit my tongue to keep from crying again.

"It was your job. Pregnant women can work physically demanding jobs until the seventh month. Did you force yourself into dangerous situations you didn't need to be in?" Dr. Raynor asked. She still wasn't getting it.

"No, but-"

"But nothing." Dr.Raynor said firmly. "It's ok to grieve, Sammee. What it's not ok to do is blame yourself and hyper focus on scenarios that didn't happen. Let your friends help you grieve. You'll need their support." She told me. "Now come on, let's eat."