"Hey Tony," Steve heard the strain in his own voice. "Come on, Tony, answer me."

Maybe he was feeling a little frantic, but that was acceptable. He and the Avengers' resident genius were now buried under literal tons of building. Assuming that Tony had also survived the fall, they were going to have one hell of a time getting out.

Steve shifted and moaned, pain lancing through his chest as bruised ribs protested the movement. His left shoulder was also screaming at him, but he was pretty sure that it wasn't dislocated. Some other injury, then. The air was thick with settling dust, and the space was pitch black. Steve pushed himself to his hands and knees, wincing in the cover of the dark, and started to gently move his hands along the floor. He thought his eyes might adjust, but they hadn't so far.

The reactor. Steve felt his stomach drop as he thought of the glowing blue light of the arc reactor embedded in Tony's chest. He would be able to see that if Tony was nearby. Assuming that his chest wasn't covered by rubble. Steve bit down a moan as a spike of pain went through his temple. He squeezed his eyes shut—not that there was any light to block out—and shifted his weight to his knees. He brought one hand up to his head, lightly touching the source of the pain. The skin along his hairline felt sticky and matted, and he didn't need to see to know his hand came away stained with blood.

"Tony," he croaked, throat full of dusty air. "Tony, can you hear me?"

Rubble shifted behind Steve. He did his best to turn quickly, but he was in a small space and his days of being little and maneuverable were over. His heart pounded in his throat.

Either we're about to die, or Tony survived. Come on, Tony, don't leave me down here alone.

"Steve?" It was more a whisper than Steve had ever heard from Tony.

"Tony!" Steve shuffled forward as quickly as he dared. "Thank God you're alive!"

"Shit…Steve," he could hear something like fear in Tony's voice. "Keep your giant, ridiculous, Super Soldier ass on that side of the room. I think the rubble is about to shift again."

As if Tony's words had been the final straw, rubble began to fall around them. A huge weight struck Steve in the upper back. The force drove him to his stomach, crushing the air from his lungs. He squeezed his eyes shut at the shock, gasping noisily as he struggled to draw in air.

He heard Tony's shout as if from miles away.

I have to get over to him. He's trapped, he's probably injured. He could be dying. I have to get up.

Steve pushed up with shaking arms, grunting as the rubble fell to the side. He hadn't forgotten Tony's insistent request that he stay away, but he was choosing to ignore it. He crawled over to where he remembered Tony's voice coming from, trying to block out the ache from the ever-growing list of injuries his body was dealing with.

I'll heal. I can take it.

His hand suddenly hit something cold and smooth to the touch. Metal.

"Hey there, Cap," came Tony's voice. "You wanna stop groping me?"

Steve jerked his hand back. He glared in the general direction of Tony's voice.

"Why can't I see the reactor?" He asked. He felt panic seep into his voice. Tony needed the reactor to survive.

"Relax, Steve," Tony said, making it perfectly clear that they had other things to worry about. "There's—" he grunted, "a piece of—" another sound of strain, "concrete on my chest. I can't budge it."

"Okay," Steve said, running through the options in his head. "Let me see if I have a better angle on it."

He found the armor on Tony's leg and followed it up to his torso. He swallowed hard when he felt the slab of concrete on the other man's chest.

"Tony, can you breathe?" It seemed like a stupid question. He was speaking, so he was getting air. But being in the pitch dark with a slab of concrete pinning him down was a recipe for a panic attack. Steve needed to know how urgent this was.

"Yeah," Tony grunted without his signature snark. "Sooner may be better than later."

Translation, he needs out—now.

Steve curled his fingers around the slab of concrete, making sure his grip was good. He stood as upright as he could, slamming his already aching head on the 'ceiling.'

"Careful," Tony said breathlessly.

"How nice to know you care," Steve muttered, focusing on the energy he was going to need.

Tony reached up, fumbling around until he found Steve's forearm. "Ah, there you are. The faceplate is irreparably damaged, so I tossed it somewhere around here. Also, this gauntlet."

Steve realized that Tony was gripping him with warm, human fingers instead of the cold metal of his suit.

"That's why you couldn't lift if off yourself?" Steve asked, preparing himself to lift the slab. He tested his strength against its weight.

Even with the serum, I'm barely going to be able to budge this. With my shoulder…

He rolled the joint experimentally, hoping that he wasn't going to damage anything permanently.

"Okay, Tony," he huffed. "I'm going to lift on three. Roll toward me."

Tony grunted in affirmation, giving his forearm a little squeeze before letting go.

"One, two, three." Steve's count turned into a groan as he levered up with all of his might. He felt the protesting shifts from the piled rubble around him, so he tried to lift just enough to get Tony free. No need to make anything else collapse. His groan turned into a shout as something tore in his shoulder. The joint refused to take any weight, and he dropped the slab of concrete with a resounding crack.

"Tony?" He gasped, trying to think clearly through the haze of pain.

"Yup," He heard the engineer's breathless voice. "I made it. No harm done to my beautiful face."

Tony seemed to be calmer now. His sense of humor was back, which meant the panic was probably under control.

Steve's body started to tremble as adrenaline rushed through him to dull the pain. "God, Tony," I thought you were done for." He tried to lower himself to the ground, but ended up falling on his ass rather clumsily.

He saw the worry in Tony's eyes.

Wait, I can see?

The blue light of the reactor threw light and shadows in the confined space. Twisted metal structural bars protruded from the concrete rubble. Steve couldn't imagine how much that would hurt. It would be a really fast way to puncture a valuable internal organ.

Tony's face was scratched and bruised along the jawline. His lip was split and a mostly-clotted cut sliced through his right eyebrow. He appeared to be fine, despite the scratching and denting on the chest plate of his armor.

Tony's mouth was moving, but he didn't appear to be speaking. His eyebrows furrowed and he reached out to grab Steve's arm.

What the hell is he doing?

The world came rushing back to Steve was Tony shifted his arm. White hot pain exploded in Steve's shoulder, burning along his arm and chest.

"Steve? Steve? Oh fuck there's a piece of fucking metal in your shoulder," Tony had gone pale, moving around the see the back of Steve's left shoulder.

"Just tore something," Steve said, surprised at how slurred his voice sounded.

"Well, you probably did that too," Tony muttered, "but there's a six inch shard of rebar sticking out of your shoulder blade, you ass. Did you not think to mention that you were bleeding?"

Steve was finding it difficult to focus on Tony's words, but he did think it was rather unfair to be blaming him. After all, he had just freed Tony from his concrete prison.

Tony put his face close to Steve's.

"Hey Steve, you've gotta stay with me, Cap. Think happy thoughts. What passes for happy in the Great Depression?" Tony frowned, fingers dancing over the manual releases of his suit to reach the shirt underneath. He pulled it off and pressed the fabric to Steve's shoulder. " Just think about bald eagles and fireworks or something."

Why is he freaking out? I'm here, aren't I?

He tried to say something, tried to point out that he was a little beat up, but mostly fine. He tried to say a lot of things, but a pesky grey haze was beginning to crowd his vision.

Huh, maybe Tony was onto something.

Then darkness.

.

.

Steve rose for a breath of consciousness from a pool of troubled dreams. As he became aware of his surroundings, the dreams began to fade, but the feeling of trouble remained.

His skin itched.

Steve noticed a rhythmic beeping and the sound of something tapping away. He cracked open his eyelids and groaned as the light tore through his head.

"Hey sleeping beauty, you up?"

Steve knew Tony's voice anywhere.

"Oh are you about to ask me what happened? Well, let me fill you in."

Now Tony sounded annoyed.

"You, in all of your I-would-rather-die-than-tell-anyone-about-my-massive-injuries wisdom, argued with me for a solid ten minutes—"

Tony's voice got louder and more agitated.

Steve turned his head to take in the dirty, exhausted looking billionaire. He stood and started to pace.

"—while you bled out—"

Steve winced. He was practically shouting now.

"—and nearly died from a damn concussion, while we were trapped under God-knows-how-many tons of fucking concrete!"

Tony stomped back over and collapsed into the chair. "So you'll forgive me if I'm a little upset."

"Um." Steve was at a loss. "Thank you?"

"Don't thank me, you stupid son of a bitch," Tony glared at him. "Look after yourself and tell me when you're hurt."

Steve blushed and looked down at his hands, nervously picking at the tape that secured his IV.

Tony gently swatted at his hand. "Don't do that."

"I'm sorry," Steve said hesitantly. "I honestly didn't think things were that bad. I'll tell you in the future."

"Right," Tony said with a sigh. "That was probably the blood loss. Or the shock. Maybe the concussion. You can't lead us if you're dead, Steve."

Steve's eyes snapped up to the older man. His head was aching, his shoulder throbbed, and his ribs twinged when he breathed, but he was determined to see this through.

"I don't have a death wish, you know," Steve said quietly. "Maybe I did at first. Everyone I knew was gone, so I thought I should be gone too."

Tony was staring at him now. "I didn't know that."

"You wouldn't," Steve said with a sad smile. "I don't volunteer that kind of information. But I like it here. I like our team and I like the tower. I like being a part of this."

Tony was uncharacteristically silent, letting Steve finish.

"I would do anything to protect you, you know," Steve said. "You, Nat, Bruce, Clint, Thor—though he doesn't seem to need much help—"

Tony snorted.

Steve sighed. His train of thought plowed ponderously through his mind, making his head ache. He was sure there was more to say, but he couldn't put the pieces together.

"Rest, Cap," Tony said, giving his uninjured shoulder a quick squeeze. "Just do me one favor?"

Steve hummed in response as the exhaustion started to pull him into sleep.

"Add yourself to that list."

The last thing Steve saw before he fell into a peaceful sleep was Tony Stark settling back into the chair beside his bed.