Work Text:
Dust swirled around the small, dark space, coating your throat, and chocking you. You gasped. Agony. Every breath was a struggle. It felt as if you were breathing in pure grit. The effort burned all the way down to your lungs. A cacophony of sound made it impossible to make any sense of what was going on around you. All you could do was brace yourself and hope for the best.
The roaring stopped. Your ears rung with a high-pitched buzz as they adjusted to the almost silence. Cautiously you pulled your hands down from where they had been protecting your head. You coughed and sputtered as your lungs fought for any trace of real oxygen they could find. You hacked up a thick glob of dust and finally managed a real breath. Somehow, you had survived.
Instantly your S.H.I.E.L.D. training took over. Article one: access the damage. Thankfully nothing had hit you too hard in the head, so a concussion was unlikely. You could hear your own strangled breathing, so hearing was intact. Flexing your fingers you noted two – no three – fingers on your left hand were fractured, and likely broken, though the right hand seemed to be alright. You wiggled your toes; all in working order. Legs too. Though any movement, even your shallow breathing, burned through your abdomen. Okay, so likely a rib or two broken. All in all, for having a building collapse around you, you certainly could have come off worse.
You moved slowly, inch by careful, painful inch. Eventually you coerced your body into a stooped sitting position and you were able to take in your surroundings. You felt more than saw how small the space was – only a very weak, gray light trickled down through the debris. Through the gloom you were able to make out very little, though truthfully there was likely not much to see. Gingerly sliding your hands along the ground around you, you were able to discern that there was about an inch of space all around you. Overhead a thick metal beam ran the length of your small hole. Chunks of concrete and plaster balanced precariously on it. You had a bad feeling that if you attempted to move the wrong piece the whole mess would come crashing down on top of you.
Already the air felt thin, and you could feel an unwelcome surge of panic squeezing every muscle in your body. You could taste bile at the back of your throat, and your pulse jumped astronomically.
No. No. You couldn’t let that happen. If you panicked all you’d achieve would be wasting the precious air you had left. You clapped one hand over your mouth and nose, feeling your warm breath flow over icy fingers. Okay. Calm down. You knew how to handle this situation, but you’d be no good if you couldn’t think.
You sipped at the air in small, measured draws, trying to form some kind of plan. From what you could see, there was no identifiable weak point in the rubble and attempting to probe into any point could prove catastrophic. Already your options seemed dismally slim. Not holding much hope you reached down to the communicator on your wrist and tried to call out for help. All you got back was static on all channels. Either it had been damaged in the collapse, or there was no one left out there to hear you.
Well, if your options were either sit here waiting to suffocate or go out fighting you knew which way you’d prefer. You struggled onto your knees, hunching your back in the tight space. You could feel the larger chunks of rubble overhead pressing into your back. Using all the strength you had left you pushed up, hoping to shift some of the debris, your broken body screaming in protest – in the worst case scenario, at least you wouldn’t have to slowly watch your body die of oxygen deprivation. Overhead the wreckage groaned and rained small pebbles down around you, but nothing more. You collapsed back down, fighting not to gulp greedily at the remaining air. It was no good. You were well and truly trapped.
You fought down the urge to cry. Tears would accomplish nothing. You were going to die here. The last thing you wanted to do was become a pathetic snivelling mess first. Slumping down, you awaited the inevitable.
***
The air was stale. Everything tasted of dust. Your body ached, but there was no more fight left in you at this point. You couldn’t be sure how much time had passed - each moment crept by sluggishly. At some point you had closed your eyes to try and stop the sickeningly dizzy sensation you couldn’t fight off.
It wouldn’t be long now…
At first you couldn’t be sure if you were hallucinating. It wasn’t out of the question. Isn’t that what happened around this time? Surely this torture was almost over.
But then the sound became louder. You could hear it clearly now, even over the sound of your own dull heartbeat thumping in your ears.
What was that?
You tried to look up but more dust cascaded down into your already parched eyes.
What was going on?
Suddenly, with an almighty crash, light broke through. Even though it was a dim half-light, your eyes squeezed shut tight against it. A cool breeze trickled down into the hole, caressing your tired, sweat drenched body.
"There you are!” a voice above you cried. The hole above you got bigger and bigger as more of the rubble was striped away. You could hear them grunting with the effort of moving the large stones, but who could be that strong? You hadn’t even been able to budge them.
Eventually the opening was big enough to crawl through. Wanting to see your rescuer, you forced your eyes open. Everything was too bright – dark splotches wriggled across your vision like snakes as a pair of strong hands grabbed you underneath your arms and gently helped you up and out of your prison. “Are you okay? How badly are you hurt?”
As the world cam back into focus you recognized the blonde man supporting you. “Steve –“ you tried to say, though all that came out was a thin rasp before you fell into a coughing fit.
“Woah, easy now,” he wrapped one arm around your waist, steadying you as your lungs brought up all the dust that had settled into your lungs. Once the fit passed you sucked the cool air in hungrily. Had it always tasted like this? Steve pushed back your sweat-drenched hair, surveying your dirty face carefully. Somehow, despite the fact he had just come from battle, he still looked every bit the American icon.
“I’m – I’m so glad to see you,” you managed between gasps.
His blue eyes shone with concern, “Back at ya.” Steve looked you up and down critically, “How bad is it?”
You tried to laugh, but it just sent you into another coughing fit. Steve pulled you closer, gently rubbing your back as you tried not to double over. “Pretty bad. I think I’m banged up pretty good,” the world still spun around you. The best you could do was cling to Steve and hope you could stay upright.
“I’ll say,” he mumbled. “I’m just so glad you’re alive. I thought I’d lost you.” He pulled you closer to his chest, folding you into a gentle hug.
The moment was ruined as you hissed a sharp breath through your teeth in pain.
“What’s wrong?” he quickly pulled back, his tone immediately guilty.
“R-ribs,” you managed.
“I’m so sorry. I just –“ he cut himself off, a self-conscious look on his face. “Never mind. We should get you back to S.H.I.E.L.D. and get you patched up.”
You looked up at him, still hardly believing you had come out of this ordeal alive. “Did we win?”
He looked over his shoulder at the remnants of the city. It looked like more than a few neighbourhoods had been completely levelled. “I don’t know that I’d call this winning.”
You eyes followed his over the destruction, “It never feels that way, does it.”
He shook his head sadly. “Any battle you can walk away from I guess.” He paused. “Can you walk? I’ll carry you, but I don’t want to hurt you anymo-“
“I think I can walk,” you assured him. “But I might need some help.”
He offered a small smile. “You know I’m your guy.”
“My best guy,” you tried to return his smile as best as your tired lips could. As you wrapped an arm around his torso to help steady yourself you felt him place a light kiss to the top of your head.
“Thank you for coming back for me,” you quietly murmured as the two of you limped you way away from the wreckage.
“You know I’ll always come back for you,” he said as he picked his way carefully across the street, doing his best to find a clear path for you.
‘I hope so,’ you thought.