#thread: steve

If there was anything Juniper hated more than bad guys it was nighttime. Under normal circumstances a superhero would love to sleep at the end of a long day of missions, but not Juniper. Sleep meant closing her eyes and when she did that, memories of hydra came flooding back. The only reason she ended up in bed was because Steve begged her to sleep after being away for the past 72 hours straight. 

Steve had fallen asleep first. She didn’t blame him, he had had a long day and all he wanted was to curl up with the girlfriend. Only issue with that was that Juniper was in a grueling streak of nightmares, thus the lack of sleep in the last 72 hours. As she laid next to steve, tossing and turning, she cursed herself for potentially waking him. Eventually though, exhaustion set in and her eyes slipped shut. 

In her sleep, she had managed to crawl out of bed and into the corner of the room, huddled on the floor. She let out a blood curdling scream as hot tears freely flowed down her rosy cheeks. The screams continued steadily until she felt someone gently shaking her, the faint muffled sound of her name drawing her to the surface. 

The aftermath of the battle left all the people in Wakanda, the Avengers included, devastated. Exactly half of the people had vanished, crumbled into thin dust and whisked away in the soft wind. Desperately, Juniper stumbles around the forested land in search of your remaining friends. Her footsteps feel labored as the aches from the battle ache across her body.

That’s when she stumbles upon a metal arm. Bucky. Bucky didn’t make it, and for a moment her heart stops, wondering if Cap made it through. She picks up the pace, frantically dodging giant fronds of leaves and jumping over fallen logs. No one seems to be around, only fragments of Thanos’ destruction present as a reminder that they weren’t successful. Just when she had given up on finding anyone, she run into a bulky figure.

“Thank God Cap, you are alive.” she says relieved, recognizing the familiar  frame. 

To say the team took a hit was an understatement. Everyone is low in spirits and energy as they recover from the attack from the dark elves. Some faired better than others, thus why Juniper is inseparable from the infirmary ward. 

It was only a few weeks since Juniper and Steve had confessed feelings for each other when the attack happened. She wasn’t even with Steve to see anything happen, but when she got back to the Avenger’s tower, her entire world came crashing down. 

She could barely stand once she saw Steve unconscious in a hospital bed. Her knees buckled from under her, yet she still found the energy to rush over to his side. Hot tears pricked her eyes as she reaches out over to brush her fingers over one of the cuts on his face. She waited like that for 26 hours straight. Her eyes now sunken in, face pale and clammy. Natasha had brought her one of Steve’s sweatshirts, and she graciously put it on with a half hearted smile. 

It wasn’t until 35 hours after the incident that she finally passed out from exhaustion, sitting in a chair next to the bed with her head resting next to his hand. 

@doctor-sailor-investigator sent: ❝ if a mysterious voice gave me an ominous warning, i probably wouldn’t listen to it. ❞-Steve

SHIELD had finally given him a mission that he could get behind. It was easy, going undercover to keep an eye on Steve Rogers, make sure the guy was adjusting to the modern day okay. He wasn't even required to make contact with Rogers, just keep an eye on him when he wandered around DC. Tony could do that with no problem.

He'd become a cook in Rogers' favorite diner. The man came in every day and ordered a cup of coffee and a slice of pie. Tony figured it was the closest he could get to feeling like he was back home. He'd already learned that Steve hated modern coffee shops. Too much noise for him, no familiarities. At least that's what Brenda said. Tony himself hadn't talked to Steve before, had been doing his best to remain off the radar.

That ended today though. They needed more information about Steve, SHIELD said. They needed to judge his mental health so they could determine whether he was capable of being Captain America or not. Tony thought it was disgusting, the way SHIELD was more worried about Captain America than Steve Rogers, but there was nothing he could do about that. All he was was a lowly field agent. He couldn't change the way the higher ups ran their jobs.

Rogers entered the diner right on time and sat in his usual booth, back tucked against the wall. Tony watched him from the narrow window into the kitchen, listened as he ordered his usual and asked Brenda how her kids were. He was a decent sort like that. It made Tony feel especially icky spying on him, but that was the name of the game. Brenda came and put in Steve's order before grabbing the coffee pot and his cup and returning to his side. Tony cut the piece of pie and set it on the ledge, dinging the bell.

He was due a break soon, purposefully timed so he could catch a conversation with Steve. The other man was wearing a Dodgers hat and that was Tony's in. He'd practiced his Brooklyn accent for months prior to this mission. For a boy from Long Island it wasn't bad. It would fool Steve, at least. Tony'd never been called on his accents before. It was close enough to how his nonna had spoken English for him to feel comfortable with it.

Steve had a newspaper in front of him and a Dodgers' hat on his head. Tony knew he could pick either of them to focus on, draw Steve into conversation. The other man wasn't rude enough, from Tony's observations, to ignore an attempt at conversation.

@doctor-sailor-investigator​ sent:  "You let me think you were dead!"

It wasn’t supposed to turn out this way. Tony adjusted his stance as he listened to the Admiral drone on, raking Tony over the coals for how this last case had gone, yelling at him for letting his team go AWOL without leaving anything behind for Five-0 to trace them with. Things had gone to shit, the case had gone as wrong as it possibly could have, and Tony and his team had found themselves trussed up like a pig and hauled into the rainforest on Molokai. It had taken them a week to get away, to capture the sailors and traffickers that they were after. In the end, they’d ended up bringing all their suspects in in a fishing boat that they’d borrowed. When they’d dragged themselves back to the NCIS office after locking the suspects up, they’d found the Admiral standing there, arms crossed and lecture at the ready. As far as Tony knew, Five-0 didn’t even know that they were back yet. The Admiral certainly hadn’t called them in front of him.

Tony held back a sigh as the Admiral continued his lecture, doing his best not to let on how injured he was. If the Admiral knew he was injured then Tony would be rushed to the hospital and Steve would be called, which would make Steve angry and honestly Tony was too tired to deal with Steve’s anger and concern right now. He just wanted to curl up in his bed and pretend the past week had never happened. His injuries wouldn’t allow that, even if Steve would. He probably needed to go to the hospital anyhow, get some real stitches and not the field dressing that he’d had Marks do. He was a dab hand with a needle but he wasn’t a nurse. Tony could feel the blood pushing into the bandage they’d wrapped around him. He was definitely going to need better stitches, but he wanted to get home first. As soon as this was done.

“-you acted with complete disregard for the safety of your team, without following the rules of your agency. You should be fired, Agent DiNozzo, but that’s not my call. I’ve already put in my recommendation to Director Vance. If he has any sense he’ll put you on unpaid leave while they review this case.”

Tony nodded, hands behind his back as he stood at attention. He’d perfected this pose years ago, when he and Gibbs used to get called into Morrow’s office because they’d gone rogue and done something that definitely wasn’t in the rule book. Standing at attention always seemed to pacify the military types, even if it was just for a short time. Something about it made him look contrite, like he actually felt bad for what he’d done. He didn’t, not usually, but he could look the part, appease them. The Admiral was no exception.

“You’re right, sir,” he agreed mildly, another thing that always appeased them. “I was completely out of line. I put the lives of my team and our victims at risk. I acted without thought and it almost cost us a good team, good people. I will, of course, accept any and all consequences that Director Vance dishes out.” He managed to look contrite, “If that’s all, sir, I would like to send my team to the hospital to be looked over and treated for dehydration.”

It was the last that convinced the Admiral to dismiss them, Tony immediately ordering his team to the hospital. He ignored their knowing looks as he didn’t head over there himself, pretending that he couldn’t see the concern in their eyes. Yeah, he was injured, but there were more important things for him to do right now. Someone had to call Five-0 off the search that Steve had probably launched the second Tony went AWOL. If he didn’t do it himself Steve was still likely to burn through all the favors he’d managed to accrue over the past few years. He could go to the hospital after Steve was soothed, after he’d been pulled out of SuperSEAL mode.

Making his way to his car, Tony let out the grunts of pain that he’d been holding back. He had been stabbed twice, one under his ribs and one in his right shoulder. They were both sewn up to the best of Marks’ abilities, but the bandages were sopping wet and Tony knew without looking that he’d popped at least one stitch. His left knee was a mess from where he’d been stepped on while they were tied up. He was pretty sure he’d heard a pop at the time. Hurt like hell to put pressure on it now, but he’d endured worse. The worst of it all, and the part that would have Steve carrying Tony right to the hospital himself, was the cough that he’d picked up after being locked up in a damp basement for the week. He had endured several asthma attacks, both while they were locked up and in the hours since they’d gotten free. He knew his lungs were probably petri dishes for all sorts of diseases right now. Steve was going to lose his mind.

Sliding into the front seat of the car, Tony swore under his breath. Driving to the Five-0 offices was going to be hell. He wasn’t sure he could sit upright for that long, but he had to try. He pulled out of the parking spot and threw the car into drive, making his way off Pearl and turning towards Iolani Palace. There was no way Steve would be anywhere else right now, frantic as he must be to find Tony. He would go and apologize in front of the rest of the team. Maybe Steve would go easy on him if there were witnesses. Probably not, but a guy could hope. He winced as the movement of his arm pulled on his stitches. Yeah, no way Steve was going to go easy on him.

It was a filthy man who pulled his way out of the car and up the stairs at Iolani Palace. He hadn’t been able to change into his spare shirt at the office, couldn’t pull his shoulder that way, so he was still wearing the torn shirt he’d been wearing the day they were taken. The once blue shirt was muddy and bloody, both caked in so deep they were never coming out, even if Tony had been able to patch up all the tears. He was limping, favoring his left leg as he forced himself to continue on the path to the Five-0 offices. Pushing in the door, he stood upright, hiding the pain and fatigue that he felt. He had to look strong or Steve would freak.

“Hey there, sailor,” he managed as casual a tone as he could, grinning lopsidedly when Steve looked up from the plasma table. “Long time no see.”

He’d expected Steve to come in for a hug, could see that Danny expected it too, but that wasn’t what Steve did. Hands came up and pushed at his chest and Tony stumbled backwards, bad leg buckling underneath him as he clattered to the floor. The breath left his body, leaving him gasping and clutching at his newly bleeding side. Fuck, but Steve hadn’t been pulling the weight on that push. He let out a groan of pure agony.

“What the hell, Steve,” Danny was there at Tony’s side almost immediately, producing an inhaler from dad-space, Tony was sure. Tony clutched onto it like the lifeline that it was. “He’s been gone a week and your first move is to push him? What’s wrong with you, you Neandertal?! Is that any way to greet the man you love? You didn’t even check to see if he was injured.”

Tony patted Danny’s hand, showing his silent appreciation for the other man’s support as he fought to catch his breath. He sucked in the albuterol in his inhaler with grateful gasps, holding his breath as long as he dared before speaking. He wanted to let Danny fight this fight for him, but he had to face the music like an adult. “Thanks Danny,” his voice was scratchy and the thanks ended on a wet cough. “I’m alright. Just a little banged up.”

“A little banged up? A little banged up?! You have blood oozing out of your shirt and you say you’re just a little banged up?! Jesus, the two of you deserve each other. Both of you are just as stubborn as the other. Steve, come over here and knock some sense into your man, but do it gently, okay? He looks like he’s already been through the ringer.”

Danny moved out of the way and Tony watched as Steve rushed forward, pushing into Tony’s space. Tony smiled as much as he could, considering the pain he was in, and reached up a hand to cup Steve’s face, thumb brushing over his cheek. Steve looked so worried and Tony hated being the one responsible for that look, hated knowing that his absence had stressed Steve out this much.

@doctor-sailor-investigator​ sent:  "Should you be out of bed? You look like death warmed over."

The flu. In Hawaii. Who got the flu in Hawaii? Tony, apparently. He was blaming the tourists coming to Pearl for that. Snotty noses and unwashed hands. That wasn’t even covering how many germs were on planes that they just carried onto the islands. 

Tony was something of a germaphobe in his old age. It was getting harder and harder to recover when he was sick, and sickness didn’t just disappear because you wanted it to. Every year he got a cold, at the very least, but it had been a while since he had the flu. And boy was he feeling it.

He’d been in bed since the first sneeze, Steve ushering him to their room and plying him with peppermint tea. Steve knew what peppermint tea did to him, how it would put him to sleep faster than anything else. Cheater. Tony had been convalescent for two days now, steadily getting worse as he coughed and sneezed, inhaler never far from his hand.

He could feel it in his lungs, the way this flu was affecting him, how every breath was painful. He was trying to stay out of the hospital, dutifully using a nebulizer, a humidifier (for fuck’s sake Steve this is Hawaii) next to the bed, inhaler used on schedule. Anything to keep him home, where Steve would hover but at least Tony could guarantee he wasn’t taking his stress out on the unsuspecting criminals of Honolulu. A hospital stay right now was not advisable. Not even remotely.

He’d just woken up from a nap and was making his way slowly down the stairs when Steve walked in (presumably from putting his lunch together) and found him, sitting on his ass halfway down the staircase, hand clinging tightly to the railing as he slid down. He did his best to smile at him, leaning his pounding head against his arm.

“I was coming down for the thermometer. It’s not in the bathroom and I think my fever’s hotter. Check it for me?”

He looked up at Steve and he knew his eyes were pathetic. He always got puppy eyes when he was sick, according to Andie. He had no idea what she was talking about.