Hello, fanfiction! Thank you for allowing me back into the Avengers fandom. I'm actually working on two other one-shots right now: one for Naruto, and another Avengers one. Hopefully, those will be up shortly, but the semester's ending, so I've got a lot of work to do for finals…
This one starts out a little Steve-centric, (I don't know why, but I feel like I can get into his head the best…) but it does incorporate the whole team. I tried to do them all justice, and I apologize if it gets a little depressing. Well, onward!
While the City Slept
He barely felt the impact when the plane first hit the water, though the contact jarred everything else on board. He continued to sink. He'd lost his sight the moment the craft was submerged. At first, he mistakenly thought the growing cold was a side effect of fear. Then it all went to hell.
The glass finally succumbed to the pressure, and the icy ocean water rushed in to meet him. The burning began in his lungs and quickly spread to the rest of his oxygen-deprived body. For one horrific moment, the feeling of suffocation was all too clear. Then, as his mind, too, fell prey to the lack of air, things started to get hazy. The encroaching darkness was welcome…
…And disappeared all too soon.
Captain America returned to the world coughing, panicking, and struggling to breathe.
Much like the way he awoke so many nights these days. Such as this one.
Steve lay back on his pillows, waiting for his heartbeat to return to its normal pace, having assessed the situation and decided he wasn't currently in any danger. It took a long time to return to relative comfort. He had yet to adjust to the room Tony had so graciously given him in the Tower. At least half of his old apartment could fit in this one room alone, never mind the huge closet and adjoining bathroom. Having excess just wasn't something he could get used to.
Well, it was safe to say he wouldn't be getting any more sleep tonight. With a sigh, Steve sat himself back up and slipped out of bed.
On nights like these he left himself with two options. Work himself back to exhaustion or relax? The Avengers had had a rough day. Even with his superior recovery abilities, Steve would be feeling his aches and pains well into the next day. He didn't need to irritate them further. Relaxation it would be.
He left his room and quietly made his way to the floor's lounge area. He really shouldn't have been surprised to find every other member of his team already there. He knew the other Avengers each had their own nightmares, but it was never something they discussed. Now it seemed there was no avoiding the obvious.
The lounge was set up in a way that made Steve imagine some very comfortable business meetings. Black leather furniture, an assortment of couches and reclining chairs, formed a circle around a group of small coffee tables.
Tony had his laptop open on one, scrolling listlessly through something on the screen. Bruce sat beside him, a cup of coffee cooling in his hands, also not paying their research much attention. Natasha and Clint were perched on one couch, both looking tired but stoic, their faces masks. Thor, too, had dark circles under his eyes. He took up another couch all on his own, silently watching the ceiling fan spin.
No one said a word when he came in, but Steve knew they had seen him, so he took a seat in the closest chair. For a moment, the silence continued, until Hawkeye chuckled darkly.
"The team's all here," he muttered.
"At least I don't have to worry about waking anyone up," Bruce replied, equally softly, equally cynical. The Hulk tended to make an appearance on his worst nights. Yet another thing that none of them talked about.
"So, to what do we owe the pleasure, Cap?" Tony asked, never raising his eyes from his work.
"Tony." Natasha's tone was that of a harsh warning as she stared down the billionaire. To Steve, she said, "You've been missing out. We do this a lot. But we don't question anyone," her gaze landed on Tony again, "out of respect."
"Perhaps we should." Thor had looked over. "I am not a doctor of any nature, but the way we are handling things now… Nothing his improving."
Steve inhaled deeply and let the breath out slowly. As much as he hated to admit it, Thor was right. For the good of the team, sharing his nightmares was the only logical next step.
"…I lied to SHIELD," he started quietly, capturing his team's attention. There were no more distracted, wandering eyes.
"So the Captain's not such a boy scout after all," Tony cracked, though the words unusually dull, lacking his usual edge. "Who woulda thought?"
Steve ignored him and continued, "When I first woke up, I had no idea where I was. I thought I'd been taken by Hydra. I didn't trust any of them. And later, once I'd accepted what had happened, I just didn't want to talk about it, but… I remember everything. Sometimes I wish I had amnesia."
Bruce chuckled darkly, causing all eyes in the room to shoot his way. "Trust me, if you couldn't remember, you'd want to. I spend half my free time trying to get into the other guy's head, hoping he didn't do anything I'll regret."
"I wish I could forget," Tony murmured, almost to himself.
"Sometimes I wonder how any of us stay sane." It was the first productive input Natasha had given them all night. "I feel like one day I'm just going to slip out of reality and I won't even notice."
"It's not much different," Clint spoke up. "I didn't forget either. When Loki took over my mind, I was almost too lucid. It didn't feel like I was being controlled, just like I suddenly knew what was right. Then I woke up. I took my place in SHIELD, tried to get things back to normal. Except then I realized that 'normal' wasn't much different. I was still surrounded by and responsible for death everywhere I went."
"'Tis the burden of a warrior," Thor said grimly.
"I forget sometimes how screwed up we would seem to normal people," Natasha replied. "How does someone get to a point where they just accept that one day their job will kill them?"
"Every soldier goes into battle knowing it might be their last," Steve said quietly. His words sounded like a sad attempt at justification or maybe comfort.
"But a regular soldier has a chance of coming home and never having to return," she shot back. "There's no escape from our job."
"You think I don't know that?" For the first time Steve's official, soldierly wall broke down. He didn't look overwhelmingly in control, just weary. "I spent the war waiting for the one shot I wouldn't be able to block. It had to happen eventually, right? The only relief I got from drowning was knowing it was finally over. It seemed like a fairly tame death compared to what I'd been imagining."
"And then you woke up," Tony cut in. "And now you spend every single night envisioning what will happen next time. You beat death once—"
"I don't want to die again," Steve finished. His words sounded so simple, childish even. But no one would begrudge him the need to finally say the words aloud. Didn't they all reach a point where they tired of being impenetrable walls?
Tony and Steve were watching each other closely. The two had reached an understanding of sorts, but they'd never quite gotten to the point of friendship. It turned out they had more in common than they'd realized.
"I don't want to outlive you all." The words came from Bruce, breaking the silence that had settled in around them. "I'm always so worn out in the aftermath whenever I… transform, but I've yet to find anything that can really kill me. I mean, is it even possible for me to die of old age? One day will the other guy take over and just… never let me back out?"
"I am unable to truly comprehend it all," Thor told him, "but I can relate to your original sentiment. Asgardians live much longer than the people of Midgard. This was never something I even had to consider with my friends back home… But I treasure these moments I share with you all. One day, I will miss them."
Clint chuckled. "Man, that got sappy. Well, here's to the present, I guess."
The archer raised an invisible glass, and the other followed suit until they were all laughing quietly at their own hypothetical toast, likely the effect of exhaustion. It wasn't a safe lifestyle they led. Their nights weren't always pretty. But they would wait out the dawn together.
Review please!
I still own nothing.
Well, what did you think? Did the ending get too sappy? Like I said, the whole thing was kind of depressing… Oh well, I'm sure there will be many darker stories to come. Until then, I hope you enjoyed reading this little drabble I cooked up.
