Around the time Tony's stomach tried to invert itself a third time, he heard a crash at the door. As his face plate smacked back down, Tony jerked upright, activated his right repulsor and aimed it up at the source of the sound. The HUD lit up with attack vectors and weapon choices, while unbidden, his stomach lurched again and he begged whoever was up there to keep him from vomiting inside his suit.

"It's Barnes," a voice shouted before the door flew off its hinges and none other than the former Soldier burst into the room, machine gun up and steady in his grip. It was a direct contrast to Tony's repulsor which was quaking with the radiating aftershocks of his sympathetic nervous system.

Barnes didn't wait for Tony to lower his hand and continued to scan the room through the gun's sights. He apparently didn't find any threats for he slid the gun onto his back and fell to his knees next to Steve. "How is he?" he asked as he began running his hands over Steve's body, feeling, presumably, for broken bones or injuries other than the angry red wound on his leg.

Not yet trusting himself to move his left hand which was helping keep him upright, Tony deactivated the right repulsor then used it to push open the face plate. Fresh air rushed against his skin and he felt his stomach calm briefly. But then he caught a whiff of burnt skin, which sent his insides rolling all over again. He would not be sick, he vowed as he swallowed hard and steeled his spine. He could hold it together for Steve's sake.

In response to Barnes' question, a thin red beam shot out of Tony's gauntlet and spread itself in a wave over Steve, indicating JARVIS was performing another scan. A holoscreen dropped out of the HUD, revealing Steve's vitals, which were steady albeit far from normal.

"He's alive," Tony reported to Barnes, flipping the holoscreen so the former Soldier could see. "But he needs medical attention."

"So take him!"

Inside the suit, Tony's arms and legs were shaking, with shock or memories he wasn't sure, but the end result was the same; he could not be responsible for flying while carrying Steve. He quickly considered calling one of the a legion, the army of autonomous suits he had developed last year, but they were statistically bad at turning while carrying cargo and tended to break said cargo in the process. JARVIS could pilot Tony's suit smoothly but he suffered from the same carrying issues as the legion, though not as badly. Still, it was too much of a risk for Tony to take, with Steve in his current condition.

Tony's skin, already cold and clammy, turned icy and his teeth began to chatter. He'd been trying to keep his own issues at bay until Steve was situated, but it didn't seem like that was much of an option anymore. "I can't," he ground out.

Thankfully, Barnes didn't press the matter. His expression didn't so much as falter as he lifted his wrist to his mouth and said, "Wilson, we need a lift." A beat later, the pararescue replied that he was on his way.

Less than a minute later, Sam sailed through the window Tony had broken earlier. Bucky quickly summarized the situation, and Sam barely gave Tony a second glance before bundling Steve into his arms and flying out the window.

Which left Barnes and Tony together in the same room. If Tony hadn't been so hyped up on adrenaline, this would have had his skin crawling. As it was though, it was barely a footnote in the previous series of events.

He expected Barnes to follow Steve to the hospital, which would give Tony a chance to regroup in peace, but instead, Barnes turned to face him and asked, "You okay?"

No, was his immediate thought as his stomach rolled again and the vice around his ribs tightened another notch.

"I need a minute," was the response he was able to vocalize, once the shock of the question had worn off.

Barnes nodded swiftly then grabbed his gun and stood. "Go with them," he said. "I'll finish up here."

"You should—"

"Go with him," Barnes insisted, his tone low and rough, with just a fraction of… pleading?

Whatever it was, Tony found himself unable to disagree. "Okay."

Barnes nodded again, then quickly strode out of the room, leaving Tony alone with the bloody staff, a sniper rifle powered by alien tech, and a lifeless assassin.

He had to get up. He had to follow Steve.

But in that brief moment, the shock of what he'd been asked to do to save Steve's life fully sank in, bringing with it panic and pain and dredging up memories he wanted nothing more to forget. His body began shaking so violently that his teeth were gnashing together and for an indeterminate amount of time, he was unable to move, act, or even think clearly as it all washed over him.

"Sir," JARVIS then said, barely audible through the rush in Tony's ears. "I do believe you are having a panic attack."

He couldn't. Not now.

With great effort, Tony began forcing the panic aside and shoving the memories back into the lock box buried at the back of his mind. He could process it all later, over a stiff drink, when Steve was stable and he was alone.

Even with that mindset, it took a long few minutes for him to ground himself and be breathing semi-stably again.

"Hospital, J," he then ordered, superficial damage to the suit on the tight turns be damned.

"As you wish, sir," was the AI's only response.

As JARVIS fired up the thrusters and lifted the suit into the air, a heater kicked on and soft, classical music drifted from the speakers. Then, the face plate closed slowly, leaving Tony breathing fresh, clean, filtered air, and finally he felt his joints begin to relax.

"May I be so bold as to say that your actions surely saved Captain Rogers' life?" JARVIS said as he ran through the autonomous pre-flight checks.

He could, but that didn't make what Tony'd done any easier to stomach. There were too many memories of someone doing something similar to him all those years ago.

"Just get me there, J," Tony said, as his shaking began to slow under JARVIS' ministrations.

A few seconds later, the HUD flashed green, and JARVIS lifted the suit into the air and through the window.

They had only flown a few miles when JARVIS spoke up again. "Agents Barton and Romanoff are demanding to know how Captain Rogers is."

That was when Tony realized his comms had been totally muted. Probably by JARVIS in the middle of his… moment.

"Sergeant Barnes has been less than vocal, which is causing great concern."

"Patch me through," Tony ordered. He pulled in a few deeper breaths and forced himself to exude calmness and a sense of control before his comm came back online.

"What happened?" Fury demanded barely a second later.

"Steve got stabbed by a Chitauri weapon. Sam took him to…" And that was when Tony realized he didn't know where Sam was taking Steve. He didn't remember Sam mentioning it, but it was possible he hadn't considered that information pertinent in the heat of his rapidly building panic.

"Washington General, sir," JARVIS reported on the private channel.

Tony relayed that to the rest of the team, then added, "I'm on my way there now."

"Good," said Natasha, and the sentiment was quickly echoed by a few others.

"And Barnes is on his way back toward you," Tony said, by way of warning. Barnes hadn't gone off-script for a while now, but anything was possible when Steve was hurt. It wouldn't hurt to be prepared.

"I got him," Clint said, before his comm clicked off.

"We'll see you soon," Natasha said before hers did the same.

Updates from the doctors were far and few between—not because they didn't have any good news once they finally walked into the waiting room, but because they had been so occupied with stabilizing Steve that they hadn't had time until right then. Despite the amount of money Tony offered, he and Sam hadn't been allowed in the observation room of the operating theater and had instead been guided to a private waiting room, just a few doors away.

Tony despised waiting in all its forms, and he was 150% sure he was driving Sam insane with his constant questions. To his credit, Sam just calmly answered as many as he could before suggesting Tony check in with his company or his lab to distract himself. Tony had done so and had been occupied for about fifteen minutes. Just as he was starting to get anxious again, a dark-haired doctor stepped in and told them Steve had a long road ahead of him but that he was stable and was expected to make a full recovery. Tony and Sam weren't allowed in post-op, but they could wait in Steve's room if they wanted.

They didn't even check with each other before agreeing. The doctor then led them to the empty room, which was primed with all sorts of equipment attached to the wall and hanging from the ceiling, before excusing himself.

The room was just like every other hospital room Tony had been in, complete with the sterile and overwhelmingly antiseptic smell that was currently making his skin crawl. Before he ended up too far down that path, he pulled up his phone and centered it over the security camera in the corner so JARVIS could start taking over the feed.

Behind him, Sam had apparently tuned back into the comms, since his next words hit Tony in stereo. "Steve's going to be fine," he announced, and received a loud whoop from Clint in return. "He'll be down for a while, but he should make a full recovery."

"Have you seen him?" Barnes asked.

"No, he's still in post-op."

"For how much longer?"

"We don't know," Sam said gently. "Are you all alright?"

"I'm not the one you need to be worried about," Barnes retorted. His voice was still thin and angry but it was a lot more normal than it had been during his and Tony's last conversation.

Sam just sat there silently, waiting, until Natasha and Clint had confirmed that they were fine, and that both of them had eyes on Hulk, who was still guarding outside the south side of the White House.

"Bruce hasn't slowed down," Clint then reported. "Might need your help Tony."

"Now?" Panic tightened the vice around Tony's ribs. He couldn't leave yet, not until he was sure Steve was alright.

"Not yet. Still waiting to see what he does."

"Copy that." As a wave of relief washed over him, Tony returned to examining the hack JARVIS was running.

Out of the corner of his eye, Tony saw Sam pull the comm from his ear and pair it to his phone instead. He was expecting silence, akin to the waiting room, but Sam surprised him by asking, "How are you doing? And before you lie to me, Barnes told me what happened, so I'm not above calling in Rhodey if I need to."

I'm fine, Tony wanted to say. And he almost did. But the words were clearly a lie and he liked Sam too much to force them out.

It took him a minute to decide on a more acceptable, and honest, reply. "It was a lot," he finally said. "Doing that to him… It brought back some memories I thought I was over."

"You saved his life," Sam replied.

"That's what everyone keeps telling me."

There was a glint of something like understanding in Sam's eyes. "You're sure you don't want me to call Rhodey?"

Tony shook his head. "He's on assignment overseas. But thanks."

Sam nodded then pulled up a game on his phone.

Only a few minutes later, the comms via Sam's phone crackled to life.

"We need an assist with the big guy," Clint said before the line dissolved in crashes and an angry roar. "He refuses to calm down."

Panic surged again, but this time, Tony had had time to prepare for it. The last thing he wanted to do was leave before he'd seen Steve, but if it meant calming down Bruce before the Hulk decimated entire city blocks, he didn't have another option. Bruce responded well to him, so it should be quick; Tony was banking on being back in half an hour or less. Still, he ran through the techniques for grounding himself, then let out a slow exhale, feeling exhaustion seeping into his bones. "I'm on my way."

"You sure up for this?" Sam asked. He didn't look up from his phone, but the dots onscreen had stopped moving, proving he was awaiting Tony's response.

Tony nodded. "Let me know if there are any changes," he said as he walked out of the room and up to the roof where his suit was standing in sentry mode.

Pointedly ignoring the splashes of red crusted on his gauntlets, Tony let the suit assemble around him then took off to help his friend.

Bruce was not in the most agreeable mood and Tony ended up having to draw him toward the Mall to get him calm enough to transform back into Banner.

Having already tried and failed to do the same, Clint, Natasha, and Barnes headed for the hospital. By the time they arrived, Steve had been moved out of post-op and into his room. He was still ghastly pale and had a massive IV in one arm, but his leg had been thoroughly treated and was now wrapped in a thick layer of gauze and resting on a pillow.

"How is he?" Bucky demanded as he stormed into the room with Clint and Natasha hot on his heels.

"Still unconscious but stable," Sam said. None of the three listened to him and pushed past Sam to see Steve for themselves.

Bucky ran his eyes over the various monitors then pulled the glove off his flesh hand and laid it on Steve's chest. It was only then that the lines in his shoulders relaxed slightly. He muttered something under his breath in Russian, which earned a choked laugh from Natasha, then brushed Steve's hair out of his eyes. Somehow simultaneously, he also dropped into the chair closest to the head of Steve's bed without losing a stroke.

Natasha and Clint then did their own inspections of Steve before leaning against opposite walls of the room.

"So when do you think he'll be out of here?" Bucky asked, to no one in particular.

"All depends on him," Sam said, and if on cue, the whole room turned to look at Steve, who was still breathing steadily, if a little raggedly.

The room drifted into another lengthy silence, punctuated only by the soft beats of Steve's various monitoring equipment. It was only as Sam was drifting off slightly that both Natasha and Clint's phones chirped in unison.

"Fury's calling us in," Natasha said, after reading the message. When she looked up, her face was slightly troubled.

"All of us?" Barnes asked uneasily.

"No," she said, leaning over to drop a kiss on Steve's forehead. "Just Clint and me. Keep us updated."

"Always."

"You know you could catch—" Sam began after the two SHIELD agents had left.

"No." Then Bucky's expression softened slightly. "I'm staying right here until Steve wakes up."

"What do we have?" Natasha asked as she stepped back into the room where Steve had fought the shooter. She sidestepped two members of Damage Control, who were pouring gallons of StarkTech bleach on the puddle of Steve's blood. It was standard procedure any time Steve was injured to keep any traces of the serum out of unwanted hands.

Fury was standing by a large window that would have had a sniper rifle sticking through, had the window still been intact. As is, the rifle, which was glowing blue from its underbelly, was lying on the floor and was covered in shards of glass.

"Rogers doing okay?" Fury asked, turning to look at his agents.

"Sam says he'll make it. Tony finally get Banner calmed down?"

"Just. They should be on their way to the hospital now."

Natasha nodded, then repeated her original question.

"Modified sniper rifle," Fury said gesturing at the weapon in question. Clint and Natasha stepped next to the Director and were now able to see the glowing blue magazines welded seamlessly between the stock and the barrel.

"Looks the same as the Chitauri tech from four years ago," Natasha said. She then looked over at Clint and the two of them silently decided who was going to look where.

"And similar to the Raleigh bank heist." As he pulled on a pair of gloves, Clint knelt down beside the rifle and began examining it.

Despite knowing the crime scene techs had already printed the dead man, Natasha pulled out her New SHIELD-issue scanner and scanned his prints again, just to speed up the processing time. Then she crouched down beside the blood-soaked staff that had been used to stab Steve. It didn't seem to be alien at all, just a weapon designed to inflict serious damage as its corkscrew tip entered and exited flesh. Still, she took pictures, then motioned for the techs to take it back to SHIELD for further examination.

"Is finding out who is manufacturing these weapons back on the table?" Clint asked, looking up from the gun.

"It appears so," Fury replied. He was on the far end of the room discussing something with Damage Control.

"So, how someone getting this tech in the first place?"

"We already checked the logs in the Vault," Fury replied as he walked back toward Clint and Natasha. "No one has even been close to where these weapons are stored."

"You're assuming they're not being lifted before they get in the building," Natasha pointed out.

"Or that we ever had them in the first place," Clint chimed in.

Fury looked at the two of them expectantly. "Well, what are you doing standing around here?"

"Waiting to hear about the second scene," Clint replied, crossing his arms over his chest and matching Fury's gaze, "and if we're supposed to look it over."

"No need. It's two blocks south. Empty apartment just like this one. Video footage shows a heavily-disguised person dropping off a box around noon yesterday. No one has entered or exited since Wilson showed up." Fury looked at his two agents. "Your priority is finding out how we missed some Chitauri tech. This can be handled by Bravo team."

Nodding, Clint and Natasha rose to their feet. Clint then looked at Natasha, silently asking which job she'd prefer. Knowing Clint had a preference and not having one herself, Natasha shrugged and motioned for him to pick.

"I'll take the Vault," Clint said, to no one's surprise.

"I'll run down transfer records from Battle of New York Cleanup and see if anything got lost," she said for Fury's benefit. It was an equally tedious job, especially considering the records were most likely still scattered about in the wake of the Triskelion, but at least it was closer and could be done in silence. Clint's job was going to require face time with a lot of very smart and competent, but somewhat strange, individuals.

"And I'll run point on the Garcetti assassination," Fury finished. "I have a feeling all the Alphabet Agencies are going to be called into a meeting. I'll see if I can pick up anything there."

Clint and Natasha nodded, then left for their respective assignments.

The world was fuzzy when Steve came to. His head felt fuzzy, his mouth felt fuzzy and everything below his neck was fuzzy.

"You with us?" someone asked, fuzz-ily? If that was even a word. If not, it should be. It sounded just like it looked.

"Steve?"

He knew that voice. That thought was sharp, not the least bit fuzzy.

"B'k?"

Was that him? Why did he sound so awful?

"Steve."

Bucky sounded relieved. Why? Where was he?

"You're in the hospital. Got stabbed by a Chitauri weapon—"

Chitauri? What year was it?

"It's 2015, Steve." Something warm was on his hand, but it felt good. "You saved the First Family."

The who?

Then many people were around him, talking. The words hurt his brain. They were pulling at his eyes, shining in a light. He flinched away, which whoever it was said was good.

His brain was hurting worse than before, so that was the opposite of good.

"…for some scans."

There was a hard push against the back of his brain, like someone had kicked him, and then Steve found himself mostly awake, eyes open, and panting for breath.

"Sc'ns," he slurred out.

"Yeah." A dark spiky blob leaned over his bed. Steve blinked hard and the blob sharped slightly into Tony. "They need to do a full work-up—"

"No!" The word flew out of his mouth before he consciously decided to say it.

The Tony-blob looked confused. "Steve, they have to."

"No… scans," he insisted, forcing himself into a sitting position. Something behind him was beeping loudly, driving shards of discomfort into his skull.

"Jesus." Hands were on him and pushing him back down into the bed. But he was stronger. "No scans!" he shouted. He wasn't sure why, but he knew it was the right thing to say.

"Steve." That was Bucky, who sounded incredibly worried.

"Can we hold off on the scans?" he heard Tony ask, and his body suddenly slackened into the bed.

"I suppose," a woman said uncertainly. "But we'll need them sooner—"

"No," Steve insisted, though he was losing the fight to stay conscious. He dug deeper, focused harder, and managed to regain the slightest grip on his consciousness.

Then, Tony was saying something to the woman that Steve couldn't pick up.

"No scans," Steve pleaded, turning to Bucky. "Pl'se?"

Bucky's brow furrowed. He didn't answer, so Steve repeated his plea.

"Okay, Steve," Bucky then said as he laid a warm hand on Steve's arm. "No scans."

Steve felt himself nod before he passed out again.

The second Steve had slipped back into unconsciousness, Bucky turned to Kathy, Steve's floor nurse. "That's weird, right?"

"It's actually not," Kathy said, as she checked Steve over again and made some minor adjustments of the equipment. "People do a lot of strange things under the influence of anesthetic. At the doses you're giving him, it's possible he had a reaction."

"Even if he'd never had one before?" Tony questioned.

Kathy shrugged. "I don't pretend to understand what's in that bag," she tilted her head at the souped-up painkiller Tony and Bruce had developed for Steve after finding out his body burned through normal analgesics before they had an effect, "but I know it's keeping him under and without pain." She consulted the many monitors around Steve then said, "he's also running a bit of a fever—even for him." The last bit was added rather unnecessarily; everyone in the room knew Steve's body temperature was just under 100 degrees on a normal day, so his current temp of 101.2 was high.

"It's possible he's just confused," Kathy continued. "He may not remember it when he wakes up again." Bucky and Tony must have looked pretty unconvinced since she felt the need to add, "I wouldn't worry about it for now. Especially until he's completely back with us."

Without a word, Bucky turned back to Steve, presumably for another visual baseline, which left Tony to finish the conversation.

"What about the scans?" he asked as Kathy moved to leave.

"We don't have to do them right this second," she said, turning back to face Tony. "Let's give Captain Rogers a chance to come around again and see if he reacts any differently."

Tony nodded, though it didn't do anything to belie the worry knotting his stomach. Despite what Kathy said, it wasn't characteristic for Steve to act like this, but then again, maybe she was right and Steve was having some sort of short-term reaction to his encounter with the alien staff.

Either way, they wouldn't know for sure until Steve woke up.