She clutches her side in pain. It feels like her side's on fire, though she knows that's not the case. She doesn't attempt to pull the metal shard out of her side and tries to apply pressure to the wound like she heard that she should. She bites her lip to try and muffle the whimper of pain so they can't hear her, but a soft cry still escapes her.
She holds her breath and listens to see if anyone heard her, but relaxes a few moments later when she realizes that everyone's too caught up with the fighting all around them to hear her.
She had been heading home from work, a photography company that's located not too far from here, when what she assumed to be a bomb went off. She was pretty far from the original blast site but another bomb went off that was much closer to her and a shard if metal roofing had struck her. That's when all of the shooting started.
She thinks it may be a terrorist attack, though she knows that buildings around here are old and probably have old information that some people want. She had read online in old Shield files the houses around here hold very important information, so she's sure that someone decided to get those files.
She lets out a shuddering breath as the pain increases, though she can hear the gunfire getting further away. She doesn't attempt to stand up from her curled up position in the alleyway. After she heard the first bomb her first instinct was to find cover, and she supposes that's the reason why she doesn't have more metal shards in her. One had sliced her leg and one landed by her head, though only one pierced her and she's suddenly happy that she watches so many documentaries and movies about wars.
She leans her head back on the brick wall, trying to control her breathing. It doesn't do much as she's left panting for breath. Her position isn't ideal, she knows that. She's kind of curled in on herself and her lungs are compressed. She's sure that she'd make a great target for anyone who's apart of the group attacking this part of the city and she has a feeling that now the Avengers are involved, she'd become more of a hostage than another kill.
A soft whine leaves her throat as the metal shard in her side seems to sink deeper into her. She's trying to apply as much pressure as she can but her hands are sticky in blood and with her clouded vision and the pounding in her head, she can feel herself grow weak.
She's so weak, in fact, that she doesn't hear someone make their way into the alley until they end up hitting a metal shard. Her head snaps in their direction and it's then that she realizes that she had closed her eyes. She blinks through bleary eyes at the large man in front of her. She huddles against the wall, not properly seeing him, but his attention is not on her.
He's looking at something, or someone, at the end of the alleyway and she doesn't even have the chance to see what it is when the man throws a circular object. It makes a bong sound before it somehow makes its way back to the tall man.
Her eyes clear up as she squints up at him in pain before her eyes widen, her breath catching in her throat. It seems like the sound gained the man's attention and his own eyes widen before he sprints over to her, putting his shield on his back.
"Ma'am?" he questions, hands wavering over her hesitantly. "Can you hear me? Are you okay?" His voice shows his obvious worry, and despite herself, she smiles up at him. It feels like a grimace.
"I'm just peachy, Captain," she says, coughing a little, something wet hitting her lips. Her tongue darts out to clean her lips and she realizes that she's coughing up blood. Worry is clear in his eyes as he looks at her before he turns away slightly.
"Guys," he says into an earpiece communication device. "I've got a woman here who needs serious medical attention. She's got shrapnel embedded in her side and she's coughing up blood. I'm going to go on a limb here and assume that's not good."
She coughs a little more and his attention immediately goes to her, though he seems to be listening to something for a few seconds. She looks into his baby blue eyes and her eyes blink slowly at him. "I'm going to have to apply pressure to the wound until someone comes," he tells her. "Do you understand, ma'am?"
"Rowan," she croaks out, closing her eyes for a moment at the pain before meeting his confused gaze. "My name's Rowan." He cracks a worried smile and he seems to be looking to her for something.
"I need to apply pressure to your wound, Rowan," he tells her seriously. "It's going to hurt, but I need to make sure you don't bleed out, okay?" She nods her head and coughs a little more, her face screwing up in pain.
The Captain doesn't hesitate a second to pull her hands away and replace them with his own stronger ones. She lets out a sharp cry at the influx of pain and he winces at it. "I'm sorry," he says genuinely. She waves it off and puts her hands over his to try and seem useful. "I'm Steve Rogers."
She cracks another grimace-smile at that, finding it hard to breathe under all of her pain, though she raises her eyebrows at him. "The shield and red, white, and blue suit kinda hinted toward that, Captain," she says, her speech beginning to slur slightly. "Though, I kinda wish we woulda' met under better circumstances. Specifically when I'm not dying."
His stare turns hard and determined as he looks at her. "You're not dying, Rowan." She snorts at that and coughs up some more blood. "Someone's going to come and we're going to get you to the Tower. The hospitals around here are packed with people. You'll get top-of-the-line care."
She raises her eyebrows at that. "You're taking me to the Avengers Tower?" she says in disbelief, the words coming out as breathy whispers. "Just because I got hit with a little bit of metal? That's a bit overkill, Captain." He gives her another stern glare. "Okay, so maybe it's not a little bit of metal. But I can't afford that kind of care."
"And that's why you're not paying," another voice echoes throughout the alley. Her head snaps upwards and she just blinks at the maroon and gold man hovering above her, and above him a small jet. "Capsicle, you're going to have to let go of her so I can get her up to the quinjet."
The Captain doesn't move and she can see the worry in his eyes. "It'll be fine," she says in a whisper. "I'm sure someone wouldn't mind taking over pressure duty until you get up." He stares into her eyes for a few moments before looking up at Stark, nodding his head.
"In three," Stark says, crouching beside her. His arms begin to slide under her, careful to not bump the metal shard sticking under her. "One... Two... Three." She lets out a pained groan as Steve removes his hands and Stark clutches her to his metal chest, immediately thrusting upwards into the opened hatch of the jet.
She resists the urge to curl up in a ball as she's placed on a gurney. Her eyes are squeezed shut, so she doesn't see who immediately applies pressure to her wound. She lets out a whimper, clutching her bag that somehow hasn't managed to get destroyed throughout everything.
"Shit, that's bad..." she hears a masculine voice say. She laughs weakly, more blood spilling from her lips.
"I think you're delusional," she says weakly as she opens her eyes, hearing Stark land in the jet and the cool draft stop. Steve runs over to her and replaces the Falcon's hands with his. "Oh, hi Captain. Funny seeing you here." He stares at her and cracks a worried smile. It looks like a grimace.
"I wish I would have met you when I wasn't dying," she says suddenly, looking up into his sky-colored eyes. She ignores his frown and continues before he can get a single sound out. "I probably would have asked you out, to be honest. I'm that kind of person." She lets out another breathy laugh, more blood spilling from his lips.
He raises an eyebrow at her. "I probably would have said yes," he replies. She can feel everyone's eyes on her, though she doesn't care. She cracks a weak grin.
"So, say we didn't meet this way and I had asked you on a date and you said yes," she says. "Where would we go?"
He seems to think it over for a moment, though his eyes never leave hers. "Probably out to a movie and then dinner after," he says, thinking it over. "And maybe a walk around Central Park after that." She smiles up at him.
"Very old-school," she teases. He lets out a small snort. "What about dancing? It's been a while since I've been dancing, it could be fun." He winces.
"I actually don't know how to dance," he admits. She can hear someone snicker, though she doesn't pay any mind to it. She smiles up at him.
"That's fine," she says calmly, blinking sleepily at him. "I can teach you how..." Her eyes slide close and she whimpers softly in pain. She hears someone call her name and she cracks her eyes open after a few moments. "Hmm?" she hums, looking into Steve's eyes. She's struck by the panic in them.
"Don't close your eyes, Rowan," he says sternly, though it sounds like a plead. "You can't go to sleep." Her face contorts in a frown.
"Why not?" she whines, her hands clutching at his. "I'm so tired and it hurts..." She blinks up at him, her eyes staying closed a second longer than the last time. She sees the panic in his face as her eyes slide closed.
"Rowan? Rowan!"
She groans as the beeping beside her makes her head pound. "Rowan?" she hears someone ask her. Her eyebrows furrow and she groans some more. "Rowan, open your eyes, sweet'eart." She lifts a hand to her eyes and rubs them as she blinks. She hisses out in pain as the bright hospital light stings her eyes and she hears that masculine voice call out again. "Friday, turn the lights down, please."
She blinks her eyes open slowly as the lights dim and she wonders who 'Friday' is. She turns her head groggily and she by chance meets his gaze. She blinks slowly at his bright blue eyes before she looks down at her left side, lifting her hospital shirt up-because apparently the Avengers don't do hospital gowns.
"Oh," she mumbles, blinking down at her side which is covered in gauze. "So that really happened." She drops her shirt and looks over at the Captain who has averted his gaze from her. She can see his ears turn red. "Hi."
He chuckles softly and meets her gaze. "Hey," he says back in a deep whisper. She frowns at the bags underneath his eyes and it looks like he hasn't slept in a few days.
"How long was I out for?" she asks softly, still frowning at him. Her fingers itch to run over the dark bruises underneath his eyes.
"A little over a week," she hears a calm voice say. Her head snaps in the direction of the door and her eyebrows lift at who she sees. Dr. Bruce Banner. "You suffered from extreme blood loss and we had some complications, so we had to keep you under for a while." She just blinks at him and nods slowly.
She sits up quickly as a thought hits her, hissing out in pain and clutching her side, her eyes wide. "Where's my bag? Did someone tell my boss that I got hurt? Shit, did I get fired? I can't lose this job," she blurts out in a panic before Steve's hands press her back into the hospital bed.
"Hey, hey, hey," Steve says, leaning down and grabbing something. Her shoulders slump in relief at the bag, though she's still worried about whether or not she got fired. She hasn't worked at the company for too long, and only then she wasn't working on big projects. But that's her job and quite frankly, the only reason she's not homeless.
"Tony contacted your boss as soon as we found out who you are," Steve says, staring into her eyes. "You're on paid medical leave for the time being while you rest here and your bills have been paid."
"Should I be offended that you did a background search on me or should I be offended that you paid my bills?" she asks with a frown. "Wait... did you say that I'm staying here?" Her eyes are wide and they flicker from Steve's baby blue to Dr. Banner's warm brown.
Banner nods slowly. "You had some difficulties while we removed the metal shard and stitched you up. Something got into your system from whatever was on that shrapnel and it's causing your body to act... odd. I'd prefer if we can keep you here just in case you have some reaction to it and I'd like to get some blood samples to see if that chemical is still in your bloodstream."
Her eyebrows arch upwards, though she slowly nods. "Okay... You might want to strap me down, though," she says, gaining a concerned glance from Steve and a confused one from the Doctor. "I'm terrified of needles, just the thought of one has my skin crawling."
Banner gives her a sympathetic look as she shivers, wincing as the dull pain in her side spikes again. "It looks like you're going to need some more morphine," Bruce says, nodding towards the bag at her side. She grimaces down at the IV line in her arm, though she knows that the needle's not actually in her, there was one in her. That thought leaves her unsettled.
"Thank you," she tells the Doctor, relaxing as her pain slowly begins to dull again.
It's been a month since she was rescued by Steve. At this point, she's able to walk normally, though her side is still causing her some grief. She was set up in the guest room-more like apartment, she thinks-next to Steve's and Bucky's and she's quite liking it here.
She's met some of the team and she's kind of surprised that they weren't too suspicious of her when she was first out of the med bay and wandering the common rooms. Well, they did do a background check on me... she thinks dryly.
She's become friends with Wanda and Sam, though she has yet to properly meet the rest of the team. It's for the best, she thinks to herself. It's not like I'm going to stay here once my side's healed up. She scowls down at her side, a frown pulling at her lips as it throbs.
Her muscles ache and she shudders slightly. This has been a common occurrence since she first came here and Bruce seems to think that it has to do with that mystery chemical that got into her bloodstream. He had found it when they drew blood after she woke up, but had not been able to identify it. All he knew, however, was that it contains some of the chemical residue left over from the bombs that went off.
They-as in Bruce and Tony-have run tests on her, though they can't seem to find out what's causing the aches and the shudders. She's finding that she gets cold much more easily than usual, though she doesn't mind too much. She's always loved the cold.
She stretches as she rises from her couch, placing her book down on the coffee table. She grabs a glass from the cupboard and fills it with water from the sink, not worrying about it being contaminated in any way since there's a water filter.
She walks back to her seat and sips the water as she continues reading. It takes her a few moments before she realizes that her hand's become colder and she looks down at the water in her hand in confusion, noting that it hadn't been too cold when she got it.
She stills as she looks at the glass in her hand, her eyes widening in disbelief. Her breath catches in her throat. "Holy shit," she says to the glass. The sides have frost on it and the water inside looks to be forming an ice layer. "Holy shit."
Steve, by chance, happens to walk into her apartment at this moment, in the middle of asking her something. He stops as he sees the glass in her hand before meeting her wide gray eyes. "What?" His own eyes widen. "Why is your glass covered in frost?"
"I think I can control ice."
