Steve
He lifted Sy's limp body out of the van carefully, making sure not to jostle the makeshift tourniquet they had tied around her. The stupid girl had taken Nat's shot, and had showed off her wings in a fight against the kind of people who given even half a chance, would tear her apart just to see how see how she works.
Or worse, do to her what they did to Bucky. Bucky. Bucky, who was still alive. Bucky, his best friend who had been a prisoner of war for decades. Bucky, who stood on that highway, looked into his eyes and had no idea who Steve was. The same guy who used to rescue him from bullies in the back allies of New York was now the same guy who was the most dangerous assassin The Black Widow had ever heard of. Was the same guy who had shot a teenager through the back. Sy was lucky the shot had hit her so high; there was no chance the bullet went through her heart.
Natasha had her hand wrapped around a knife wound on her side, but that was pretty shallow. Over all the group had escaped unscathed; Sy being the notable exception. Steve was worried that Sy hadn't woken up yet; not even when they had carefully maneuvered her out the bottom of the moving van into a new vehicle that took them to wherever it was that Agent Hill had brought them too. Not for the first time in the last twenty minutes did he wish he had access to the magic healing stuff she'd once told him about. Ambrosia. But he didn't know what it looked like, let alone where to get some. All he'd found when he'd dug through her pockets was a thermos of apple juice. Although it may have been a good thing he didn't find any; he had no idea how much to give her, and he remembered her something about her warning him about spontaneously combusting if she overdosed on the stuff. He glanced down at the pale and unconscious teen. Somehow she'd gotten paler, and blood still seeped through his jacket that they' tied around her, covering his hands. Even with Bucky being alive, he needed her. Sy has become an anchor in this new and unfamiliar future. He may have found his brother, but he didn't know what he would do if he lost his sister at that brother's hands.
As they marched inside, Sam started to shout for a doctor. A man came sprinting down the corridor, two others following behind him dragging a gurney.
"GSW, through and through. She's lost at least two pints." Agent Hill said, in her usual calm detached tone. Sam moved quickly alongside her.
"Maybe three. She needs help. Now." Steve's arms tightened involuntarily around Sy's unconscious body; his trust in strangers, even former allies, was completely shot to hell. But he knew if he didn't hand her over, she would die. He placed her down gently onto the gurney, and the doctors began to work. Medical terms and orders began flying, not that he understood most of what was being said. But he only needed to take a look at the doctor's grim expressions to know that it was bad. Maybe even worse than he was already thinking. Steve moved to follow the stretcher, as another doctor started trying to patch up Natasha when Agent Hill redirected them all.
"Wait. They'll want to see him first."