Title: Temporal Quandary (11/11+epilogue)
Pairing: Staine
Rating: PG-13/T
Summary: "I kept my promise."
Disclaimers/Warnings: No infringement intended. Technical and medical inaccuracies abound.
A/N: Longer part because I didn't want to split it up (and also didn't want it to end). Epilogue will be along shortly.
...
Tony and Thor landed hard, jostling the shuttle. Clint spared a glance back before he pressed the button to raise the ramp and steered the shuttle away.
"Blaine," Steve said, voice muffled by the breathing mask and disoriented from his brief respite. He yanked the plastic from his face when he realized Blaine was not with them. He stood, steadying himself by grabbing onto the holds on the bulkhead. "Where is he?"
"We were greatly outnumbered," Thor answered somberly. Natasha and Bruce stood as Steve advanced on Tony. Tony held a hand up.
"Pepper, you ready?" he asked into his comm.
"Where is he?" Steve asked again, voice strained and face tense. The air still wheezed in and out of his lungs and he coughed with the effort.
"The ship's changing course," Clint pointed out.
"Pepper?"
"Not now," Pepper ordered, her sternness clear in the confines of Tony's helmet.
"Actually, now would be good."
"You, not now," Pepper clarified bluntly.
Tony wisely stayed silent after that, glad for the suit's helmet shielding his worried countenance as he looked at the others.
"Ship's heading for space," Clint informed somberly.
"Tony," Steve said, tone pleading, and for the first time, Tony saw fear in his eyes. He also didn't miss the other man's uncharacteristic use of his first name. Natasha squeezed Steve's arm gently. Several tense moments passed.
"We got him," Pepper breathed out. "But he-. Tony-."
"What's wrong?" Tony asked slowly, watching the panic pass over Steve's face.
"I sent him directly to medical. He's in cardiac arrest."
"What?" Steve prompted nervously when Tony didn't speak right away.
"Keep me posted," he instructed to Pepper. "We'll be down there as soon as we can," Tony added. "Clint?"
Clint nodded from his seat, not even looking back. He veered the shuttle toward Stark Tower.
...
Steve refused to sit after Tony explained what happened, the words a jumble as Tony detailed how he and Jarvis had been using the arc reactor's energy source to create and manipulate micro wormholes for long-distance travel. All he had heard was Blaine, Stark Tower, and cardiac arrest.
So, much to Bruce's protests, Steve leaned heavily on the back of Natasha's chair, watching the sky streak by and the New York City buildings loom larger and larger in the window. Bruce spoke quietly to Pepper and then a doctor, passing what information he could about how they had found Blaine. Fortunately, only a few minutes passed before they were approaching the distinctive column of Stark Tower.
Tony tapped on Steve's shoulder and pointed a thumb back at the opening door when Steve looked at him.
"Come on, Cap," Tony said kindly as he lifted Steve's arm and ducked his shoulders under. Steve went willingly, Tony's tight hold compensating for Steve's too tired body. Bruce tucked the I.V. tube and saline bag between them.
The shuttle turned, Stark Tower coming into view as the ramp lowered. They flew out and Tony aimed for the balcony a few floors below the small roof. As soon as they landed, the shuttle headed back toward the alien ship and Pepper approached. Steve's legs faltered under him as Tony helped keep his balance. She gave Steve a once over-taking in the sag of his body, the bruises on his arms, and ragged and wheezy breathing-and took the saline bag from Tony before ushering them both inside, Tony awkwardly stooping to support Steve.
Two medics waited by the elevator with kits and a transport bed. Steve balked at the equipment, pulling away when Tony attempted to help him onto the bed.
"They're going to take you straight to see Blaine," Pepper said, making sure to look at the medics so they were clear on her instructions. "He's still with the surgeons," she supplied, looking back at a still reluctant Steve. "You can barely walk," she reasoned.
"I'd listen to her if I were you, Cap," Tony added, pulling off his helmet. He stepped back and the rest of the suit began to split into smaller components and separate from Tony's body.
"You should take your own advice," Steve said, hint of a smile on his lips. He let the medics help him onto the bed, propped up on one side so he was only leaning back slightly. Pepper slipped the saline bag onto a hook on the bed's frame.
"Glad to see you're still you," Tony shot back.
Steve's retort was lost as the oxygen mask descended over his nose and mouth. The two medical personnel wheeled the bed into the elevator, Pepper and a now-unsuited Tony crowding in.
Steve tipped his head back and closed his eyes, trying to breathe steadily. The cool, clean stream of air felt stronger than the one on the shuttle, and soothed his aching lungs. They still clenched angrily when he tried to breathe too deeply, so he kept his breathing shallow. His limbs still felt heavy and clumsy in their fatigue, and the low-grade nausea that had plagued him since he woke up in the alien ship's medical lab gripped his empty stomach. He swallowed thickly. And he was cold. For the first time in a very long time, he felt goose bumps as the air-conditioned air swept over him when the elevator doors opened. He shivered and tensed, his muscles shaking and protesting the small bit of exertion.
A blanket landed haphazardly over his legs and Steve blinked. Pepper strode alongside the bed, tugging the blanket more fully over him.
Steve's fingers grasped the mask loosely away from his mouth and said, "Thank you." It wasn't just for the blanket. Pepper looked at him and smiled bracingly.
She tapped his fingers and gently ordered, "Put that back on," before helping him reposition the mask correctly and tugging the blanket over his abdomen just as they reached the medical ward.
...
"The alien ship is knocking my fighters out by the squadron," Fury said.
Clint pressed the comm and said, "We're on our way back. Bring them down from the inside."
"Do what you can," Fury ordered.
Clint brought the ship back under the destroyed hatch, opened the bay door, and set the shuttle to autopilot.
Natasha looked back at Thor as she unbuckled her seatbelt. "You ready for round two?"
"Perhaps you would like to join me this time?" Thor asked as he gripped his hammer.
"You better believe it," Clint answered, following Natasha to standing. He strode to the back of the shuttle and grabbed up a grapple and rope. Handing it to Thor, he said, "Care to give us a hand?"
Thor spun his hammer and flung it at the hatch, keeping a tight hold on it as it went. He easily cleared the hatch and the rope fell into view soon after. Clint hooked the other end of the rope to the shuttle, letting the thick cord hang loosely. "Shall we?" he asked Natasha and Bruce.
...
True to Pepper's words, the medics wheeled Steve into the observation room and positioned the bed in front of the window. Pepper stayed by his side while Tony remained behind them. Steve sat up, trying to see Blaine under the sheets and behind all the people hastening about. He caught a glimpse of Blaine's curls and let out a breath.
"What-," Steve started to ask as he pulled off the mask again. He trailed off, not knowing where to start. He kept watching. A nurse entered with a small, wheeled cart, and handed Pepper a tablet. Pepper said a quiet thank you, and the nurse nodded before checking the I.V. in Steve's arm.
"He was in arrest when they got him. Took two minutes to revive," Pepper spoke up, looking at the tablet. "They're re-inflating a collapsed lung now, reconstructing a couple ribs, patching up his liver and right lung."
"The weapon's blast shattered the ribs on impact but seared right through the flesh so blood loss was minimal," Tony recounted, having come up behind Pepper to see the tablet.
"But they're transfusing him as soon as he's out of surgery because his blood count is extremely low," Pepper added.
"They didn't try to stop the bleeding," Steve commented slowly, quietly, a subtle rumble of anger despite his still shallow breaths. "They bled him out even though he was dying." His eyes remained on the operating room.
Pepper and Tony shared a look but did not speak.
The nurse checked Steve's vitals, slipping a monitor over a finger and a blood pressure cuff up his arm. She checked his temperature and pulse. She checked the rashes and bruises, pressed sterile q-tips to the injection sites that she slotted into tubes and capped, and pressed a stethoscope to Steve's chest and back.
"I'll be back," she said, patting Steve on the shoulder to let him know she was done. He leaned back against the bed, but still, his gaze stayed steady on the surgery.
...
"How many?" Natasha asked loudly over weapons' fire and angry cries.
"Little over 100," Bruce answered, scanning the monitor. He flinched and ducked as a blast hit the wall next to him.
"Sorry, doc," Clint said before taking out the alien who had fired the shot. He slipped back behind a column of equipment to retrieve another arrow from his sheath, smoothly and swiftly moving back into view and sending his arrow into another alien's exposed neck.
"I am enjoying these odds," Thor commented. Natasha huffed.
Thor hammered at several aliens just on the other side of the open engineering door, keeping them at bay. Natasha rapidly fired a staff weapon she had acquired, from the first alien she encountered, at another group of oncoming aliens.
"How's that propulsion disabling going?" Natasha asked, jabbing the end of the staff weapon into the abdomen of a lunging alien. Clint shot him with an arrow before the alien could get back up.
"Almost," Bruce replied, fingers pressing at the symbols appearing on the screen. "There," he added a moment later.
The engine groaned and the pulsing light faltered. It dimmed with a whine, the mechanical hum quieting. Another alarm sounded through the ship, just as discordant as the others already blaring through the rooms and corridors.
Thor knocked another two aliens aside as Clint grabbed a fallen staff weapon and, with Natasha's aid, downed the rest of the aliens in engineering.
...
The nurse returned with her hands full of supplies. She switched out Steve's near empty saline bag for a new one, attached a nebulizer to the oxygen tank, cleaned and dressed the injection sites, disinfected the rashes and applied an antibiotic ointment.
Steve winced at the sting of the alcohol as the nurse worked, but his breathing came easier as the drugs entered his system through the mask. As the ache in his chest eased, and the pain and discomfort of his rashes lessened, his vision unfocused and his eyelids drooped. He struggled against the fatigue, against his body, and rubbed at his eyes to keep them clear.
Pepper prodded Tony to get checked out-having seen the reports from Fury's medical staff. When Tony finally left, Pepper laid her hand over Steve's.
"He's not going to let go," she said with a squeeze of her fingers.
Steve was quiet for a moment before he pulled the mask away and replied, "Maybe he should."
"Are you?" Pepper asked.
Steve cast her a brief glance, filled with sadness, before returning his attention to Blaine.
"No," he answered quietly but determinedly.
"Good," Pepper said, setting the mask back in place, "because I already have my dress for the wedding."
Steve turned his palm up under Pepper's hand and squeezed back.
...
"The ship is losing altitude and maneuverability," Fury informed over the comm.
"That would be Dr. Banner's doing," Natasha relayed, tossing a smirk at Bruce before returning her attention forward as she stepped over slumped bodies. Clint held his bow and arrow ready as they crept through the corridor. Thor trailed behind them, making sure no one came at them from behind as they moved away from the engineering area.
"Good job. Anything you can do about its weapons?" Fury asked.
"Not from here," Bruce answered. "We're on our way to the bridge."
They slowed at a junction, and Clint peered around the corner. He looked back with an amused look.
"Looks like getting to the bridge might take some time," Clint said as the pounding of footsteps grew louder.
With that, he turned back to the hallway and shot his arrow into the mob of aliens coming toward them. Natasha crouched next to him and fired the staff weapon and Bruce positioned himself against the wall to provide cover.
...
Blaine's surgery finished without further complication, and he was moved to an isolation room. There was no room for another bed, but Steve insisted on being with him when he realized the medics were wheeling him to another room. With a firm hand to Steve's arm to keep him on his own bed, Pepper asked the staff to help her move the I.V. and oxygen tank with Steve. Minutes later, trailing a rolling rack of equipment behind them, Pepper situated Steve in an armchair next to Blaine.
Steve stayed there silently, alternately staring at the monitor displaying Blaine's vitals and the tubes running into his arms and the wires connecting him to monitors. Sleep pulled him under every so often, but he jolted awake after only a few minutes.
…..
A sudden burst of light and heat filled the corridor behind the aliens. Clint and Bruce shielded their eyes as Thor and Natasha ducked back down their hallway. A moment later, red streaked by, only to abruptly stop and land just past the juncture. Tony stepped back into view.
"Did I miss all the fun?"
Natasha smirked as Clint ventured back out to retrieve his arrows.
"How's Blaine?" Bruce asked.
"Just finished surgery," Tony answered seriously. A moment later, his tone turned teasing, "Were you headed somewhere?"
"Might not be necessary," Fury commented. "The ship's stopped firing. And it's changing course. You should get out of there."
Without a word, they moved down the hallway, over and around fallen aliens. Tony grabbed a staff weapon and they made their way down the long corridors and through levels, fending off aliens as they made their retreat.
…..
Tony was the first to arrive back at Stark Tower, slipping into Blaine's room and talking quietly to Pepper, who'd taken up a chair near the door and had been working via her tablet. Bruce, Natasha, Bruce, and Clint arrived soon after. Thor had taken off for his home world, wanting to share the news of the aliens and send a warning to his people. Bruce waved off Pepper's concern, saying he was on the way to get checked out but wanted to see Blaine's progress. Pepper pressed a few buttons on the tablet and handed it over, information filling the screen as a video feed played in a small window in one corner and Blaine's current vitals updated every few seconds in another corner of the screen.
Steve took it all in, but kept his focus on Blaine-still sickly pale and so still, breathing slow, and eyes unmoving under dark eyelids. He listened as Natasha relayed that the alien ship had destroyed several squadrons of fighters with their blast weapons and targeted electrical pulses, how they disabled the ship's propulsion, and that the ship eventually retreated. Their cloak never re-engaged.
The nurses checked on Blaine, and Steve, every hour. The nebulizer treatment completed and Steve was allowed to take the oxygen mask off. They kept the I.V. in. The food they brought stayed untouched. Blaine remained unconscious.
The Avengers hovered, Bruce finally leaving to get checked on while Clint and Natasha stood silent and guarding just outside the door. Tony took up another chair on the other side of Blaine, his usual fidgetiness stifled as he watched Steve watch Blaine. Pepper half-heartedly prodded Steve to eat or go next door to sleep, but each time, he refused.
…..
By morning, Steve ate something when Pepper brought a tray of food in with her. Clint and Natasha took their leave then, sharing quiet words with Pepper. Bruce took up Tony's position across from Steve. And while Pepper, Tony, and Bruce all carried tablets to work on, and Clint and Natasha kept to themselves, Steve and Blaine were never without at least two of them nearby throughout the day and night.
Steve fell asleep before dinner that first day, only waking when the nurse slipped a blood pressure cuff over his arm to re-check his vitals. The lighting was dimmed, indicating evening. A blanket was tucked around him and the footstool of the chair had been lifted.
"Hey, there," the nurse said kindly as Steve blinked and tipped his head to look at Blaine. "He's still sleeping," she added with an encouraging smile. She finished up and patted his arm encouragingly before leaving with her small cart. Steve shifted, grimacing as his body protested both the uncomfortable position and the movement.
"You should go lie down, get more than three hours of sleep," Bruce advised gently from his seat.
"I'm fine," Steve dismissed, casting Bruce a quick look before turning back to Blaine. "How long before he wakes up?"
"Any time now."
"It's not good that he hasn't woken yet," Steve stated more than asked.
"It's neither good nor bad right now," Bruce said honestly. "His brain activity tested normal and he's breathing on his own. As long as he doesn't worsen, sleep can help the body recover."
…..
Another night and day passed, Steve fighting the pull of sleep by standing or pacing the small space beside Blaine's bed. Pepper managed a little lunch into him, but the still-present nausea and preoccupation kept his appetite at bay. The room was silent save the steady beeping, indicating Blaine's heartbeat.
When Bruce slipped out of the room after Steve left the dinner tray untouched, claiming a refill on his coffee, Steve sat down heavily on the armchair. He leaned close to the bed, sliding his hand under Blaine's and enveloping the cool, limp fingers. He lifted their hands and pressed his lips to the center of Blaine's hand, closing his eyes.
Steve wanted to say something, to tell Blaine he loved him, to be mad at him for taking such a risk in following them in the first place, to tell him how proud he was of his bravery, but mostly to tell Blaine to come back to him. But no words came, just Steve's uneven breathing that he tried to steady. He kissed Blaine's hand again and rested his cheek there, soothing his other palm over Blaine's forearm. He stayed like that, eyes closed, for some time. Bruce had returned, but quietly departed as soon as he'd seen the tenderness in Steve's caress, and sat in a chair outside the door, rubbing his forehead tiredly.
The beeping rhythm stuttered, and Steve's head lifted. He blinked at the screen, vision clearing too slowly as he stared at the green line moving up and down and leveling out over and over again. The beeping stuttered again and Steve saw the pattern spike unevenly.
"Blaine?" Steve asked hesitantly, breathlessly. He tightened his grip on Blaine's hand and ventured to touch Blaine's cheek with his other. When Blaine's head moved, Steve slid his fingers over his temple and a thumb across his cheek. Blaine's head tipped again, toward the touch.
"Steve," Blaine breathed out, word mumbled and voice barely there. He blinked, but his eyelids fell closed again.
"Blaine," Steve repeated, equal parts pleading and relief. Steve swiped his thumb gently across Blaine's cheek again. Blaine blinked again, this time more successfully. His unfocused and tired eyes landed on Steve's.
"I kept my promise," Blaine murmured.
"You did," Steve affirmed, pressing a kiss to Blaine's forehead. Blaine sighed, and Steve kissed his cheek. Heavy eyelids won again and Blaine's head lulled back onto the pillow. But Steve wasn't worried, because Blaine's fingers twitched in his hold and squeezed back when Steve pressed his lips to his knuckles.
