Steve Rogers was tired. It was the kind of weariness that sank into his bones, making every movement seem like a stoic decision. He hardly ever felt like that anymore, not after the serum. Before, when he was little, exhaustion was his constant state. He'd wake up as a kid feeling wrung-out and overwhelmed and generally the day would go just downhill from there.
Ever since the serum, though, his cells regenerated at such a rate that being tired was an anomaly. It happened on a couple of missions, when he fought long and hard enough, like when he went up against Bucky on the hellcarrier. But, it was a rarity.
But, he'd been up for four days straight, and that'd get to anyone.
He looked at her, lying still and deathly pale in the hospital, wires and tubing trailing from her body. The sound of the soft beeping of the machines and the whooshing of the ventilator helping her breathe were constantly in the background.
They didn't know when or if she'd ever wake up. The explosion in Tony's lab had sent fifteen people to the hospital, but only Darcy ended up in intensive care. Three surgeries later, she was still there, still fighting for her life.
A half dozen of his friends tried to spell him, tried get him to go home and sleep, but he refused. He had to be there when she woke up. He didn't want her to wake up alone and confused, strapped to a half dozen machines. He remembered as a child, seeing his mother every single time he woke up in a strange hospital bed. He remembered her face, smiling down at him, her fingers, caressing his cheek. He remembered her telling him that everything was going to be okay.
He needed to tell that to Darcy.
He needed to believe that himself.
He stretched in the uncomfortable straight back chair next to her bed and rubbed his eyes. He knew that he couldn't make it much longer, that whether he wanted to or not, he was going to succumb to sleep. Coffee barely made a dent and the energy drinks that Sam raved about were like drinking water.
He leaned over and took her hand in his and closed his eyes briefly. Please, Lord, heal her. Bring her back to us. To me. Please. The prayer ran in a constant loop in his brain, a continual refrain.
His eyes fluttered open as he felt her hand squeeze his. He saw that her eyes were open and she was shifting in the bed.
He squeezed her hand and leaned over even more, his forehead resting against hers, careful not to disturb the ventilator. "It's going to be alright, Darcy. You're going to be fine. "
She tried to smile, but ending up wincing in pain.
Steve narrowed his eyes at that and pressed the button for the nurse. He wanted to make sure that Darcy got the pain medication that she needed to recover.
"All you need is rest. The doctors said you're a fighter." Steve grinned down at her. "I told them that's why I married you. You never give up. You never gave up on me."
And Steve was never going to give up on her.