#steverogersca

steverogersca

Little patches here or there over time had made things livable-- sure he wouldn't ever be the man he was, but he had become more than nothing. He had a name, he had people in his life, he had the little things he had come to value after living so long without. Sometimes things didn't settle right; he still had his moments, still couldn't sleep most nights, fitful when he did-- but he was adjusting. Slowly but surely they were making something more of a life for him. He got to know the others, adjusted bit by bit-- they understood, in a strange way, and that's all he could ask for. That makes it all the more difficult when things come apart. He can't feel the pain, not any more than he had before, but the difference in weight, the absence-- he knows that. It's settled there, a constant in his mind, just behind the way he has to limp, to struggle to support his weight because there's something (rebar? he thinks) stuck into his leg and pulling it out will only make things worse. It's hard to breathe through the smoke, through the heat that flickers with the flames that lick anything that comes close. The tower is gone, as far as he can tell, a gaping hole sliced through it, half crumbled in on itself. The gears whirr uselessly, dangling from the jagged metal, the rest of the arm lost somewhere inside. Trapped amongst the rubble after the fight. He'd watched them pry it off, a blade shoved between the slots, jerked through and the rest ripped free. His arm wasn't a solid mass, wasn't as secure as Steve's shield; but he knew they knew that when he went in. All they needed was time, and that's what Bucky could give them. But now as he tasted copper on his tongue he hoped it had been enough. "Steve..."

"You're under a lot of pressure down here. Come with me, I'll take you home and get you something warm to drink." She offered.

Replies: 13

“Peggy, its Howard. We found him!” she froze, surely he couldn’t mean… “Steve?” she said, her voice cracking slightly. “Yeah, and he’s alive, we’re on the way to the hospital now” she stood up and grabbed her coat “I’ll be there as soon as possible” she put the phone down and ran out of the building, bumping into colonel Philips “Stark found Steve” she shouted on the way past. She’d deal with the consequences of that later. She hopped into a cab and got there in no time.  Stark was waiting in the reception area “where is he” she asked, her voice a mixture of worry and relief. She followed him to the room where Steve was lying unconscious on a bed; she sat on the chair next to him and held his hand “Steve?” she said quietly a tear rolling down her cheek.