#c.a.

“I’ll be there in about 15 minutes” you smiled into the phone, keeping your eyes on the road. “Sorry I’m late, Steve, you know how-“

“Hey, it’s okay” he cut you. “Be safe, I’ll be waiting for you, love. I love you.”

“I love you too”

You hung up and threw the phone in the passenger seat as one of your favourite songs came into the radio. Memories of you showing it to Steve came to your mind, him trying to follow the lyrics but finding no sense at all. He preferred those slow song where you two danced in the living room with the light low and barefooted.

The red light of the traffic light made you stop in the middle of a crossing. The road was empty, as it should probably be on Wednesday’s night. It was starting to get colder, and people had gotten to their houses hours ago. Not you, however, who had a horrible boss that had kept you working until she was satisfied with your pain.

It was worthy, because in five minutes you would see the lovely face of your boyfriend.

A big truck stopped beside you and waved at you. The light became green and he let you go ahead. Smiling at him, you pressed your foot on the gas; and didn’t notice how he did the same, speeding a little until he was by your side, and hitting the side of the car that Steve had so kindly gotten you some months ago.

Your scream died in your throat as your car flipped around. Your head hit the driver window and, next thing you knew, was that you were upside down with the airbag pressed tight against your chest.

“What the…”

Blood was falling off your nose, making it even harder to breath. You tried to blink the confusion out of your head, and the first thing you did was look for your mobile phone. Your hand touched the front part of the car, trying to find it; yet it must had slipped out of the car.

The sound of glass crunching underneath boots filled your ear and made your unresponsive body fill with panic. It was silent for a few seconds until the driver door was ripped off and your seatbelt undone. You screamed as your body tumbled to the roof of the car, and you hit your head pretty hard. Between the confusion, you noticed how you were dragged out of the broken vehicle and lifted into the passenger seat of the truck that had hit you. Small pieces of glass dug into your legs and arms, adding to the long list of injuries you already had.

“Let me go!” you tried to get away from the hands of the driver. “Let-Please, let me go! I-I don’t have anything!”

“Yeah, well, your boyfriend has” the driver scoffed.

Pulling out a syringe filled with clear liquid, he stuck it into your neck and you relaxed immediately. It felt as if you had just ran a marathon and had laid on the most comfortable bed ever. You felt how the little fight you had in you died, and soon you couldn’t keep your eyes open. The strange substance filled your body and made a weird warm feeling spread trough it; before you knew, the stranger was closing the door and you were falling into a dreamless sleep.

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Steve’s greatest discovery would be, apart from the microwaves and massage chairs, were phone games. You had showed him probably most of them, and he had tried nearly everything. His favourite was the one with the ball; simple, he had to put the ball into the basket avoiding flying pigs, dogs and an occasional cat. He could spend hours sucked in that little world; yet it didn’t take his full attention. As a soldier, he was always aware of his surroundings. The people who walked past him. Possible threats disguised as normal objects. Hidden cameras. Time.

He had been very aware of the passing hours as he waited for you to show up in the restaurant he had chosen that time. Your boss had almost crashed your date, but you had told him that you were going to make it. So, why weren’t you there yet, two hours after the date?

“Hi! This is Y/N, sorry I couldn’t reach your call. Please, leave your message when-“

The voicemail was cut off as Steve’s frustration almost got the best of him. He gripped it until he heard the screen crack, to resist the urge of throwing it to the floor.

You were supposed to be there, apologising for something that was out of your control while he told you that it wasn’t necessary. He hadn’t wanted to call you too many times, because you were on the road. Still, he had; and you hadn’t answered any of his calls. Which led him to think that something might had happened to you.

The answer came quickly when his phone, broken then, lighted up with your name and a cute photo of the two of you. It was taken when you two had decided to take a break and go on a vacation; you were hugging him from behind and kissing his cheek, while he was smiling at the camera. He smiled at the memory, and decided that you would be doing one of those trips soon; as soon as he had finally get rid of the diamond that had been kept on his pocket for five months then.

“Hey, love” he said, relieved. “I was starting to get worried. Where are you?”

“H-Hey Steve” your voice was small, and he noticed something off. “I’m not going to be able to go.”

“What? Why?” he frowned. “Where are you? If your car has broken down, I can go and get you.”

“No, that’s-“ you stopped talking and listened to a voice that he couldn’t recognise. “That’s not the problem, baby.”

“Then? What’s the matter?” Steve looked around the restaurant to, maybe, get a glimpse of you and realise that it was all a joke. He didn’t find you. “Y/N, are you okay?”

You didn’t say anything for a while, and Steve felt his heart stop. He remembered the feeling of knowing that the plane was going to crash into the ice; the feeling of knowing that something bad was going to happen, and that he couldn’t avoid it. It came running back to him and, just as he knew back then that he couldn’t avoid being frozen for 70 years, he knew that your answer was going to rip his heart into pieces.

He repeated your name softly, as if encouraging you to saw whatever had happened to you. Meanwhile, he got up from the desk and left some money for the waitress. For the wasted wine and the lost reservation. Steve heard you choke out a sob, and someone rushing you to say something.

“He…Rumlow wants to meet you” you whispered.

“Okay, that’s okay” Steve tried to stay calm, for you and for him. “I’m, I’m going, alright? Everything is going to be fine. I’m not letting anything happen to you.”

“Okay” you said back. “He’s gonna, uh, send you the location through the phone.”

“I’ll be there. Is he with-“

His question was interrupted by a loud thud and your pained scream. Steve got stuck hearing your cries while he ran through the streets, not really knowing where. Before the call was ended, he could made out Rumlow telling him to hurry.

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The wreak seemed like a dream, or a nightmare. The pain on your chest, dried blood on your lips and throbbing of your elbow were a reminder that it wasn’t. Pieces of glass were still buried deep into your skin, and you whimpered softly when Rumlow smiled at your discomfort.

“When he told me about you, I thought I would find something more” he teased.

Rumlow was sitting in front of you, in what seemed a much more comfortable chair than the one you were on. You had your hands tied behind your back and your legs anchored to the chair.

“Maybe a little more like Romanoff, hm?” Rumlow continued. “Damn, I would really hit that. She’s just, wow. But you… I don’t really understand what you’re doing with a guy as Steve. Thought you would be with a banker or a librarian. Someone boring.”

Steve and you weren’t what you could call match at first sight. He was big, strong and the symbol of a country and a generation. You, well; you had a boring job in an architecture office, with a tight schedule and a small work place. Even if you weren’t really alike, you had found on each other what you needed to be happy.

“He was your friend”

At your quiet words, something dark started on his eyes. And soon, your chest tightened until you couldn’t breathe. He placed one hand on your throat, squeezing until your vision was filled with black spots. His thumb traced the cuts on your jaw, inflicting more pain if that was possible. You tugged at the rope with pointless hope, the need to break free and away from his hands and horrible face causing you to try until your wrist were bloody.

His horrible face, if that could be called a face.

In his last encounter with Capitan America, a whole building on flames had fallen on top of him. And that wasn’t even the worst part; the remaining part of Hydra had erased his name from everywhere, a punishment for his failed mission. Since that moment, the rage he felt for the former hero had only increased. And he had the perfect opportunity to make him suffer and have glory shine on his name once more.

“Steve Rogers is a bitch” he spat on your face, seeing as it turned pale. “He could have done the right thing, but chose not to. And now he’s going to pay the price.”

“A-At least…” you tried to say, but it came out as a pained whimper.

“What?”

“At least…”you took a rushed breath when he let his hand a little loose around your neck. “…he’s no one’s bitch. Can you say the same thing?”

A final and hard squeeze was added and then he let you go, leaving you to cough up a little blood and choke down on air. As you tried to regain your breathing, he slapped you so hard that your head snapped to the right and your body fell to the floor.

The chair hit it with a metal thud and you cried out when your arm made contact with the floor. By then, your elbow would be probably broken, and the small pieces of glass were so deep that couldn’t be taken out with breaking skin.

Rumlow grabbed you by your arm and put the chair on its original position. Gripping your hair strongly, he mad you look up to his scarred face.

“Fact is, that Steve Roger is your bitch” he hissed. “And when your life is on the line, I bet-“

He was cut off by crashes and yells. The place where he was keeping you was probably a military base, old but strong enough to hold up a good battle. Steve’s shield hitting every door and wall in his way made you smile softly, knowing that you were getting out of there soon. Beside the pain, you hadn’t been that happy ever.

Rumlow let out a loud laugh and quickly covered himself behind your chair. You didn’t understand the heaviness of the situation until you felt a gun pressed against your temple.

“Cap”

Among the shadows, the towering silhouette of your boyfriend appeared, his shield ready on his right arm. He walked towards you with cautious steps, evaluating the damage that had been already done. Happy tears filled your eyes when you finally saw him in all his glory, and a small sob left your mouth. Steve gave you a small, reassuring smile; telling that everything was going to be just fine.

“Hey love” he talked, and his voice was like a calming balm for you. “I’m here now, okay? Don’t worry, it’s gonna be fine.”

When he heard his words, Rumlow pressed the gun harder against your chin, making you turn your head to the side. Steve disappeared from your line of vision, and you felt your heart falling to your feet again.

“I don’t feel like making a small talk with the man that destroyed my life” Rumlow said. “So, you have it?”

“Yeah”

By the corner of your eye, you saw Steve taking something out of a bag and, immediately, a powerful blue light filled the building. You had to close your eyes for a second to avoid being blinded by it; still, you knew what it was.

The Tesseract had not been easy to get. Steve had had to beg Tony to give it to him, explaining him his plan multiple times to finally agree. It had been Rumlow condition; along with the location, he had sent the request. Either it was the Tesseract, or your brains painting the floor.

So he had no other choice but giving it to him. Even without a plan, Steve was sure he would have given anything to Rumlow to keep you safe.

“Oh, it’s amazing” Rumlow whispered. “Well, you know how this goes Cap. Leave it on the floor and one of my men will pick it. I hope you haven’t killed them all.”

“No” Steve gripped the object tighter. “Let her go first. Then, I’ll give it to you.”

The gun being fired made you scream in fear, and you closed your eyes awaiting for the burning pain of a bullet. Still, the only thing you felt was the hot barrel of the gun being pressed once more against your temple. You hissed at the high temperature of it, but did not complain; the movement had allowed you to return your face to its original position, and you looked at Steve.

His face was not comforting at all, even if he was trying.

He knew Rumlow wasn’t going to hit you, but when he had fired against the floor he had almost thrown the plan through the window. He looked at you with worried eyes, wanting nothing more than taking you out of there.

“Okay” Steve mumbled.

Slowly, he left the Tesseract on the floor and watched as a man appeared behind him and took it. Said man rushed to Rumlow side, and both of them started moving backwards; the gun still pointing at you.

“You can’t imagine how happy will Hydra be when I show them this” Rumlow chuckled. “I will make sure to write your name somewhere. Probably you will appear in the history books as the man who started the final war.”

Steve took one step at a time towards you, until Rumlow was almost out of sight and he could hear your soft sobbing and pained whimpers. It wasn’t his mistake, even if later he would spend nights thinking that it was. He couldn’t have stopped it; neither Tony or the rest of the avengers, who were waiting for Rumlow outside the building.

First, the sound. Then, Steve’s widened eyes. And finally, the pain in your stomach and being thrown backwards, until your head hit the floor. The last thing you heard was Steve shouting your name.

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Cold air fell on your exposed skin, while the other half was covered in cool silk sheets, similar to the one’s you had fallen sleep so many times. Where you had woken up after a night of making love with Steve, sweaty and happy. The ringing that was once on your ears was replaced by a soft beeping and the sound of people talking and walking. But it sound too far away. It only took the disinfectant smell to know where you were.

You were safe.

Opening your eyes slowly, you smiled even when the sunlight flooded your vision and made your eyes heart. You half expected to not be able to move your hand to stop the light, yet you lifted it only with a slightly painful feeling.

Steve stood a few feet away from you, looking at something outside the window. He was leaning against the framing with a small frown, and his body showed the exhaustion and worry that he had been through in the last few hours. Because it didn’t take a lot to understand that Capitan America was in his 99% guilt.

“Baby” you whispered quietly, your voice harsh. He turned around so fast that it probably made him dizzy, but the moment he saw that you were awake, he was at your bedside.

“Oh, Y/N” he gripped one of your hands with both of his, kissing your knuckles lightly. “I’m sorry, I’m so fucking sorry you had to endure that. I should be more careful, I should, I-I… S-sorry…”

He was interrupted by a strange sound that left his throat, and soon your realised that you had Steve Rogers crying in front of you. He had been through so much and, still, the thought of losing you made tears fill his blue eyes.

“Hey, it’s okay. I’m okay. I don’t blame you, none does” you took your hand out of his iron grip and made him look at you. “I’m worried about you, though.”

“What the hell are you talking about?” he frowned and dried the tears on his cheeks. “You were the one shot!”

“Language, cap” you let out a small laugh, seeing as he couldn’t resist the smirk. “I was hurt physically, Steve. But, when was the last time you slept?”

“That doesn’t matter right now.”

You let out a frustrated sigh at his response. Of course it didn’t matter; for him, his health was just a minor item. Something to look at just when strictly necessary. The bags under his eyes, his cracked lips and reddened eyes told you that it was more than necessary.

Moving wasn’t easy, since you had one arm wrapped in a big plaster and your abdomen hurt with any breath. Still, you managed to pull your free hand on the bed and pull yourself slightly to the left.

“W-What are you doing?” he asked, his voice alert and alarmed.

“I’m moving over so you can get it” you breathed out, stopping your movements and looking up to the ceiling. “It would be easier if you could help me.”

“You need to rest love” he sighed. “You have been-“

“Yeah, Steve. Shot” you looked at him. “But you know me, I’m not stopping until I get what I want. So, either you help or I burst open a few stiches.”

Years in a relationship with you let him know that you weren’t taking a no for an answer, so he scoffed but up. Treating you as if you were made of glass, he pushed you to the side and quickly got in the bed. You breathed his scent and smiled happily; you couldn’t describe what he smelled like, but probably like home.

There, both of you laying of your backs without looking at each other, just at the ceiling, you thought it was a good time to laugh. What started as a small giggle, turned into seconds in a full belly laugh.

“What’s so funny, love?” Steve turned his head to the right and looked at you with an affectionate smile.

“It’s just-I had imagined something different for our date” you let out a small laugh. “But, still it’s perfect. Even in a hospital room where I can only touch your shoulder.”

“You know, I used to think I would never love someone as much as Peggy” Steve mumbled. He took your hand and laced your fingers together. “But, I would scream to the top of my lungs that I love you. You’re the best thing I got.”

You blushed slightly and turned your head too, so that you could kiss his lips. He put the hand that wasn’t holding yours on your cheek, and traced a small circle in your cheek. When your teared apart, you kept your eyes on his smiling lips until he took the hint and kissed you again. And again. You probably kissed more times in that hospital room than in your own; but you were happy to be in his arms again.

Because, yeah, to you, Steve was perfect.

“I’m sorry, I’m so fucking sorry” “I’m not letting anything happen to you” & “I would scream to the top of my lungs that I love you.”From my prompt list Angst and Fluff