Nobody had thought it possible. It seemed absurd, futile. The idea that Captain America could fall fatally ill? How irrational! But there was no denying it. One look into his crystal blue eyes and you'd know damn well that he was sick. No matter how unbelievable it was, the whole team of Avengers had to accept it. Their captain was suffering from a major infection, and Dr. Banner didn't know how much longer he'd be with them.
Since the infection had been discovered while Steve was at Stark Tower, Dr. Banner had insisted that he stay where he was. As horrible as it was to admit it, there was nothing they could do for him. No amount of medicine would cure the infection. Steve hated hospitals, so to put him in one when he was suffering from an incurable illness would be a mean thing to do, if it wouldn't do him any good.
As the sun slowly sunk below the Earth, tinting the clouds a pink-purple color, Tony entered the living room, where Rogers was, lying on the couch with a pile of blankets on top of him. A grief-stricken Natasha cast a glance at him, tears glistening in her emerald-colored eyes.
"How's he doing?" Tony mumbled softly. On a regular basis, he n didn't like Steve, that was obvious, and everybody around him knew it. But for some reason, at this moment in time, he felt some sort of heavy weight in his chest, and the familiar feeling of grief tugged at his heart. Did he actually feel sad about Steve? As he pondered about this, he slowly inched towards the couch.
"He's okay, I guess. Regained consciousness a few minutes ago, but, as usual, it didn't last long." She replied, her gaze glued on Steve's pale, ashy face.
Tony studied the boy, noticing that his breathing was slow and uneven, almost non-existent. He swallowed dryly, a lump forming in his throat.
Natasha felt a tear fall from her eye as she gently grabbed Steve's limp hand with her warm one. His skin was cold. "He doesn't deserve this, you know," She whispered, continuing to stare at the Captain's still form.
"I do know, and I'm sorry that you have to go through this." Tony answered her, kneeling beside her. He was about to say something more but a soft moan from Steve stopped him.
"Natasha….?" The super soldier whispered, his eyelids drifting open halfway.
"Yeah, Steve, it's me,"
He blinked slowly, coughing harshly. A small strand of red dripped from the corner of his mouth. Blood. Not a good sign.
"Steve?!" Natasha yelled, panicking.
Steve coughed again, his whole body trembling violently as blood flooded his throat and bubbled out of his mouth. "..Na…..tasha…..….can't….breathe…" He wheezed, his eyes rolling upwards. Seconds later, he went completely still. "…'m sorry if I sc'red you…" Steve slurred, his eyes reopening.
Natasha took her thumb and wiped the blood away. "You didn't scare me. But you will if you give up on me. Promise me you'll hold on, alright?"
"I….don't make promises that I can't keep…." Steve whispered hoarsely, suddenly looking more frail and sounding more fragile than ever. His chest was barely moving now, and his eyelids were drifting closed.
"Steve Rogers! Don't you dare close your eyes! We're going to get you out of this! Just…don't close your eyes on me again…..not until I know that you're going to wake up," Natasha croaked, her voice thick with grief. Tears streaked her face.
"I'm s-so…..so sorry Natasha…" He wheezed, unable to hold on. His breathing was almost nothing, until it finally was nothing.
"Steve! Steve, don't!" She pleaded him, her fingers trailing through his golden hair. "Please, Steve….don't do this. No Steve! Don't go…I love you….."
Tony sat there watching the whole time, motionless. His chest was aching badly, and for the first time, he'd finally come to the conclusion of something. The conclusion that…maybe he did like Steve. Sorrow embedded itself in his gut when he finally realized that Steve Rogers was dead. Captain America was now nothing more than…as they say it…. a thing of the past.