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The room is thick with tension as you and Steve stare each other down. His muscular arms are crossed over his broad chest, muscles straining in the stealth suit. You can see the subtle tick of his jaw, the blue flame of fire in his eyes. "Can we not do this again, (Y/N)?" You huff, tying up the laces on your combat boots as you sit across from him on the sofa. He's standing, leaning against the wall with an irritated twitch to his lips. "Maybe if you stopped treating me like a fucking child rather than your girlfriend."
His voice is soft but still stern, all Captain, "Maybe if you stopped acting like a fucking child." It sets your nerves off even more that he's using his Captain America voice on you. Instinctively your eyes roll so hard you think they're about to tumble out of your head. "Or what, you'll lecture me to death? Don't play that card with me, Rogers."
If possible his arms cross even harder over his chest, "I'm not lecturing you, I'm trying to have an adult discussion." Another eye roll, "Really? Because from here it just seems like you're scolding me. What, gonna turn me over your knee and spank me?" A red blush settles over his cheeks, whether in anger or arousal you're uncertain.
"I knew this was a bad idea," He shakes his head. Anger, then. "What, picking a fight with me?" He stays silent as you tie off the lace. Your eyes catch his for a brief moment before he looks down and away. Wrong answer. The truth bristles up your spine, putting your defenses on high alert. "Wait, you mean dating me?" Steve flinches, eyes softening for a brief moment. "We fight all the time, Doll..." He starts.
You cut him off, standing quickly, "Well if that's how you feel, maybe we shouldn't be dating." Your shoulder slams roughly into his on your way out the door. It shuts with a slam. Out in the hallway you wince and rub your shoulder where it connected with his. You know he barely felt it, and it only happened because you were so angry.
Neither of you sees the other again until you're aboard the quinjet and mission bound. It's eerily quiet, even with the rest of the Avengers on board. They all seem to sense the tension between you and Steve, and wisely say nothing. The two hour long ride feels like an eternity and you can feel Steve's gaze on you for most of it though you don't meet his eyes. You know him well enough by now to know that he feels guilty, sorry, possibly even ashamed. But you're still angry, and hurt. Did he mean it?
The landing jolts you out of your thoughts. Before you can exit his hand wraps around your arm and spins you to face him. "(Y/N), I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said that. I love you." You suck in a deep breath. "I'm not sure which one I should believe," the "I love you" or the "I knew this was a bad idea." You feel like you've got whiplash. He winces at that, and, before he can say more you're both beckoned off the quinjet.
It was supposed to be an easy mission, get in, get intel, get out. There weren't supposed to be so many guards, nor were they supposed to be so heavily armed. In what feels like seconds Nat has disappeared inside with Bucky to collect intel, Sam and Tony flying above to provide a vantage point of protection and warning, while the rest of you fight on the ground. You're vastly outnumbered by HYDRA agents, all dressed in black and packing heat.
It doesn't seem to matter how many you take down, more just keep coming. It's as if they've got a damn cloning machine in the facility. Beside you Wanda is fighting off at least a dozen agents at a time, Vision about the same, and Steve's shield whizzes and spins through the air more times than you can count. How long can you all keep going like this? Even Wanda has her limits.
You wish Bruce and Thor were with you. At least the big green guy and the god could certainly help put a dent in their numbers.
Slowly you've worked your way closer to Steve, though not intentionally. Sweat is already beading on your brow. You're nearly out of bullets, though you still have batons and maybe half a dozen knives strapped to your body. Over the comms you can hear Nat and Bucky inform you all that they got the intel and are on their way out.
At the very least, you think, you can all make a run back to the quinjet.Afterall the information is all you really need, for now.
Just as your last gun goes empty you see Steve throw his shield, the red, white and blue barreling through a long line of agents. One of them manages to dodge out of the way, gun raised, and takes a shot right at Steve.
Time seems to move in slow motion as you run to close the gap between you. The world around you is muted to a dull roar of sound that rushes in your ears. Or maybe that's just your heart. The bullet is going right for Steve, at best it will hit him in the chest, and at worst the head. You can't quite tell exactly where it will hit him. Panic surges through you as the gap between you grows smaller, and smaller still.
Your heart leaps into your throat as you dive through the air, crashing bodily into Steve to take him to the ground. Dully you hear him grunt beneath you, caught off guard---the only reason you'd been able to take him to the ground.
Blue eyes find yours, confused for a brief moment before he realizes it's you. Your eyes sweep over his form to check for the bullet, find nothing. Steve's eyes widen as you search him over and before you know it you're beneath him, his hands pressed to your abdomen.
A cry of pain tears from your throat. You hadn't felt it hit you, though logically you knew it would. Relief for Steve being safe had just simply overwhelmed your senses. But the pain is all too real, now, all too blinding and burning and so fucking cold so quickly. Steve's speaking, his mouth moving in unintelligble shapes above you--it looks half curses, have begging, but it's hard to say for sure.
Your vision fades in and out, the entire world seemingly dipped in thick molasses. It's hard to hear through, to see through, and it's nearly impossible to keep your eyes open. Pain flares across your cheek as he strikes you, "Dammit, stay awake! You can't..." He looks alarmed at having struck you, but quickly composes himself. "That's an order, (Y/N). Stay. With. Me."
There it is, again, that damn Captain's voice. It's oddly comforting, though, and you think you can feel a smile tugging at the curves of your lips. You try to say "yes, Captain" just to be a smartass, try to roll your eyes even, but the dark consumes you once again. The last thing you hear is Steve calling your name.
Your head throbs painfully, made worse by a high and steady beeping sound. The sharp tang of disinfectant prickles at your nose. Your entire body hurts, right down to your eyelashes.
"Hey," you can hear a voice, murky, calling to you, "c'mon, doll, wake up for me." There's a gentle sweep over your forehead, into the locks of your hair. Begrudginly you listen to the voice, force your heavy eyelids open.
You're in a hospital room, though you don't remember how you got there, and, given the ridiculously expensive look and feel to it it must be at the Avengers compound. Tony Stark spared no expense. Steve is hovering over you, his eyes shining and brimmed with red. "Thank God," He chokes out, gripping tightly onto your hand. You wince, and he loosens his hold. "I've already called for a nurse," he promises, "they'll bring pain meds."
And that sounds like pure heaven. You hope she hurries. "How long?" You croak, coughing on the words. It makes you wince harder, and he shushes you. After helping you drink a little water Steve answers you, "Six days, 9 hours and 43 minutes." He doesn't miss a beat in his answer, which can only mean he's been counting.
"Baby, I'm so sorry." He cups your cheek tenderly, bending to press butterfly kisses over your cheeks and the curve of your mouth. "I want to be angry with you, for taking a bullet meant for me. But I can't be anything but grateful that you're still here. With me." Steve swallows hard, gathers himself as tears brim in his eyes again. "I thought I lost you. You were right, about all of it. I understand if you never forgive me but--"
He's cut off by the nurse rushing into the room with a bright smile. You barely hear her as she administers your pain meds, checks your vitals and asks how you're feeling.
Once she leaves again you speak before Steve can, "Do you still want to be with me?" You have to know, even if the answer kills you. Even if it shatters you.
He crumples at that, nearly collapsing into the chair and against your bed, "Yes. If you'll still have me. I'm so sorry. I've been such an asshole.....why are you smiling? Is that good?"
Hope takes over a little of the sadness in his eyes as you lace your fingers carefully together with his. "Steve, shut up." You grin wider, "What did you always tell Bucky? 'Til the end of the line? Well, count me in for that too. If there's room." Steve laughs in relief, reaching up to kiss you as gently as he can. "There's always room for you. We just won't tell Bucky you said our line." He winks to show that he's teasing, and you laugh as best you can with him.
For a moment his eyes turn serious again, "I almost lost you." He swallows tightly. "But you didn't. Plus taking a bullet was kinda worth it to hear the Captain America call himself an asshole." You joke.