Whether calling Tony regularly was a good idea to do while on the run or not, Natasha didn't care. She'd kept in contact with him even before they started fixing the Accords but now she had a real excuse. Even if half of the time spent talking was to argue about one thing or another, Natasha never went a week without calling.

Despite having left Germany on slightly complicated terms, Tony kept her up to date on everything that was going on. He consulted her before meetings with General Ross and sent her copies of every edit that was made to the Accords. While Steve, Sam, and Wanda knew she called the billionaire every week, they didn't know the full extent of what they talked about.

"You're sure it's ready?" She pinched her phone between her shoulder and her ear as she attempted to cut a squirrel from one of her traps. "It's two weeks sooner than we expected."

"Yeah, I know," Tony said on the other end of the line. "Rhodey convinced the president though, so the new Accords are approved and being printed today."

"So we can return to the Compound tomorrow?" Natasha asked, pausing her work on the squirrel to clearly hear Tony's response.

"Technically, yes." He paused and Natasha waited. "However, you might wait a week just so the public dies down a bit and we're certain everything's clear."

Natasha agreed. While it was good that the approval of the Accords had been sped up, she wasn't going to risk getting imprisoned by rushing back to the Compound.

"Keep me updated," Natasha said.

"You got it, Red,"  Tony replied. Natasha smirked, imagining his face when she arrived back at the Compound with blonde hair rather than red. "Just―stay out of trouble, will you?"

"I always do," she said with a grin. Before Tony could call her out on it, she hung up. 

Slipping her phone back into the pocket of her jeans, she brushed her hair out of her face and returned to her trap. The rain was not relenting and neither was the rope around the squirrel. She sawed on the rope with her knife, trying to get it to release the squirrel, but having no luck.

With an annoyed growl, she yanked her knife through the rope. The rope was slippery from the rain, however, her hand slipped. Instead of the knife cutting through only the rope, it sliced her hand as well.

She cussed loudly in Russian, dropping her knife to look at her hand. Unfortunately, it was bleeding enough she knew it would need stitches. Muttering angrily, she ripped the cuff off of Steve's jacket and tied it as best she could around the cut. Still scowling, she grabbed the squirrel, picked up her knife, and headed back towards the shelter.

By the time she arrived at their shelter, the makeshift bandage around her hand was not only soaked from the rain, but also from blood. Rather than try to tear off the other sleeve cuff to wrap her hand with, Natasha hurried inside and pulled her injured hand behind her back.

"Here's a squirrel," she said, handing it to Steve on her way towards the bedroom. With a little luck, they still had a needle and thread in their first aid kit.

"Only one?"

"Didn't check the other traps," Natasha answered, digging through her things in search of the small medical kit. When she found it, she grinned victoriously and opened it.

Ignoring Sam who was sleeping on the bed nearby, she sat on the edge of the second bed and unwrapped her hand.

"Why does it have blood on it?" Steve asked from behind the curtain.

Natasha ignored him. Grabbing the nearest rag, she gingerly cleaned the blood from her.

"Nat?" Steve stepped through the curtain to see Natasha haunched over on the bed and wiping blood from her hand. "What happened?"

There was no point in hiding the injury as she already had blood on her pants and torn his jacket, so she held up her hand for him to see.

"God, Natasha," he muttered, kneeling on the ground in front of her. "What did you do?"

"The squirrel wasn't coming, so I had to cut it out," she explained. "My hand slipped."

"I can see that," Steve muttered, taking her hand and looking at it closely.

He grimaced at the sight, but Natasha didn't even flinch when he continued cleaning it. Once he was satisfied that it was clean enough, he grabbed the thread and needle and made quick work of stitching her hand back together.

"Watch it," she hissed as he tugged the needle a bit too hard.

"Sorry."

Behind them, Sam groaned and the bed creaked as he rolled over.

"You two are so loud," he complained, throwing a hand over his face. "What are you doing this time?"

As he sat up, he looked over to see Steve stitching Natasha's hand and shook his head.

"Nope, I'm out." He clambered to his feet and left the bedroom quickly.

A short while later, Steve was done and wrapped Natasha's hand with a clean gauze pad.

"Better?" he asked.

"I was fine before," she assured him. He rolled his eyes and the two stood up. "I'm going to go check the other traps."

"Don't cut yourself," Steve warned, watching her pull her jacket back on.

She just ducked under the curtain and headed back outside without saying anything, leaving Sam and Wanda to wonder what had happened.