Author's Notes: Thank you all for the amazing reaction to my last chapter! And since I feel bad putting you through a cliffhanger during these tense times, here's the conclusion! We're also very close to the conclusion of this longfic! Many thanks to every one of you for your support and feedback as this tale came to life.
Canon Notes: Dr. B'Gali of Wakanda is a comics bit character I swiped, as is Dr. Varya. I also yoinked another surgeon from another popular fandom - anyone catch it? Assume she hasn't retired from surgery yet.
Previous Chapter Recap: Our heroes got a much-needed breather in Wakanda while Thor arranged for the refugees of Asgard to form an independent state in a small part of Norway - and T'Challa playfully tried to arrange Shuri's marriage to Thor. Afterward, the team decided it's time to face the rest of the music and returned to the United States - specifically, Brooklyn. But even as they arrived at the Brooklyn federal courthouse to be charged, Steve was cut down by an assassin's bullet.
Chapter 47
T'Challa shoved several guards and Avengers out of the way and pressed a kimoyo bead into the wound in Steve's chest. He'd stopped breathing and was bleeding out, but with his body in stasis, they'd have a chance to save him. Bucky made a choked cry, but Wanda gasped through her own tears, "Thor, wait! Tony, take him to the Compound! Call Helen Cho!"
There was a deafening roar as Bruce Banner became the Hulk, but despite the panic of the onlookers, the enormous creature merely shielded them with his own body. "Help him!" Hulk demanded. "HELP!"
Wanda threw herself to the ground, mindless of the blood drenching the steps, and began applying her red power to Steve. "I think I can keep his organs from failing from blood loss."
Two heavy objects slammed to the ground nearby, but they were the armor of Iron Man and War Machine. Both men wasted no time suiting up, and Tony surged towards Steve's lifeless form. T'Challa held out his own now-armored hands, expecting a fight from Bucky, but the poor man seemed too deeply shocked to react as Steve was snatched away. Bucky just blinked, arms half-outstretched after Tony pulled Steve's body away.
"Secure passenger!" More armor folded out to encompass Steve, then Iron Man launched.
Vision seized Wanda and followed, while War Machine took to the air and slammed two more guards to the ground. T'Challa stood defensively in front of Bucky and Sam, shoving Clint and Scott behind him for good measure. Thor joined War Machine, Black Widow, and Hawkeye in apprehending apparent co-conspirators, roaring at their dishonor and cowardice.
Sam Wilson slowly knelt on the bloody steps beside Bucky, and the two men just stared at each other. Scott Lang hovered over the two of them, looking equally lost.
All around T'Challa, people whispered over and over, "Cap!"
"Not Cap, oh my god, is he dead?"
"Cap must be dead."
"Look at all that blood – they hit an artery."
"Oh my god, this isn't happening."
"Cap…"
Breaking News, February 29, 2020
CAPTAIN AMERICA ASSASSINATED?
Shots fired at Brooklyn Federal Courthouse, Rogers hit, feared dead!
Moments after the Avengers and James Buchanan Barnes arrived at the federal courthouse in Brooklyn, a security guard within the bulletproof enclosure allegedly opened fire on the group. Eyewitnesses report the shooter was aiming directly at Steve Rogers aka Captain America, and struck him at least once in the chest, before committing suicide. It's unknown how many other individuals were hit. Tony Stark donned his Iron Man suit and transported Rogers to an unknown location. However, experts fear that the amount of blood on the courthouse steps is a sign that even a supersoldier of Rogers' physical enhancements could not have survived.
Colonel James Rhodes, aka War Machine, and former SHIELD agents Natasha Romanoff and Clinton Barton, aka Black Widow and Hawkeye, as well as Thor attacked several other guards on the sight, allegedly due to suspicion of a conspiracy among the courthouse security. FBI and CIA personnel on site arrested nearly all of the courthouse security in the vicinity along with several individuals among the spectators.
Sergeant James Buchanan Barnes aka the Winter Soldier, appeared near collapse despite breaking out of his shackles the moment the shots were fired. Former Airman Sam Wilson aka Falcon and Scott Lang aka Goliath likewise appeared in shock. When FBI personnel attempted to remove Barnes from the scene, Thor intervened, and said, "This man will not be forced to wait in confinement for news. You may be certain he won't attempt to flee." Thor, Barnes, Wilson, and Lang were then transported away from the scene by the "rainbow bridge" effect associated with Asgard.
Both fans and detractors of the Avengers are stunned by this morning's events, and can only wait now for news.
Nick Fury and Maria Hill weren't at the Brooklyn courthouse when it happened. They were at a monitoring site in Jersey, watching for opportunistic threats, but also watching the live broadcast of the Avengers' arrival.
The moment Rogers fell, Nick hit Carol's pager several times. "Jesus, this is bad," Hill hissed as they sprinted for a car.
They were on the highway when Carol arrived, landing directly in front of their car causing everybody on the road to slam on the brakes and swerve violently. She glanced around and shrugged, yelled, "Sorry!" and jumped in the back seat. "What's happened?"
"We need a doctor. Someone with skills beyond anything Earth medicine has to offer."
If she was skeptical, she didn't show it. "I might know somebody," she said slowly. "She's a Skrull, but she knows human anatomy along with about fifty other species. You really want to risk bringing a Skrull here?"
Nick didn't hesitate to answer, "If she'll come, yes."
Carol eyed him in the rear-view mirror, but didn't ask more questions, just hopped out of the car (still at highway speed) and took off.
Nick and Hill headed to the Compound, and found surgery already starting. There was quite a team in the theater. The tall, imposing, ethereally beautiful woman had to be an Asgardian. There was a Wakandan, as well as Dr. Joan Watson, one of New York's best trauma surgeons. Wanda Maximoff was in the surgery room too, using her power for something.
Rogers looked even worse now than he had in the immediate aftermath of the shooting. From what Nick could see of his face, he was ashen gray, lips bluish.
In front of the glass wall of the surgery theater, every single Avenger had gathered. A few were busy; Rhodes, Barton, and Romanoff were in a huddle around a video call, parsing out suspects and conspiracy theories. Every few moments, each of them cast a glance back at the activity in the surgery theater.
Stark was on another call to a shaken Pepper Potts, but his eyes too were on the window. Banner and Vision were consulting in the huddle of non-surgeons, including Helen Cho and Stephen Strange.
The rest of the Avengers stood motionless, staring at the activity around Rogers. Barnes and Wilson were still smeared with Steve's blood. T'Challa, Thor, and Lang were hovering behind Wilson and Barnes.
Stark ended his call to Potts, and Nick seized the opportunity. "Sitrep, Stark?"
Stark and the others were almost as ashen as Rogers looked. He barely even quipped, just demanded hoarsely, "What the hell kind of a sit does it look like? How much more rep do you really need?"
"What's his condition?" Hill asked.
Stark started to answer, but his voice broke. He cleared his throat and said, "Critical. He - " He broke off and cleared his throat again, several times, but didn't go on. He turned away and joined the team at the window.
Banner and Strange came over. "The shot missed his heart," said Strange. "But it definitely hit an artery or three. There's a healthy supply of blood on hand, but it'll run out before their done with surgery, at the rate it's being used. Luckily there's no shortage of compatible donors. He keeps healing from the incisions before the team is through working, and if it weren't for the Maximoff girl's power, he'd be waking up."
"Christ," Hill muttered and turned away.
Nick stared past her into the surgery room. The ramifications raced through his mind of losing Steve Rogers to an assassin's bullet, but all he could seem to focus on was what it would do to the people in this building. "What's the prognosis?" Somehow, his voice too had become a tad hoarse.
Strange said very quietly, "I don't know. Neither do the surgery team. Any normal human being wouldn't have made it this far, and even if they did, they'd have died several times over since. From what I know of his healing capabilities, he still shouldn't be alive."
Someone made a choked noise. It was Romanoff. Nick politely didn't look at her, and Strange went on, "But, you have the finest trauma surgeon in New York, a Wakandan war medic trained in four countries, and Asgard's chief healer in there, along with a sorceress. He may pull through."
So that was all the people in this room had. Nick couldn't say or do anything but wait and stop the alert when Carol landed with her Skrull medic friend. Once the initial panic was halted, the human(ish) and the Skrull marched straight into the waiting area.
"What's the condition of the patient?" the Skrull asked, ignoring the stares of the humans.
"Gunshot wound, just missed the heart. He has advanced healing, but it may be working against him, and he's losing blood by the liter," said Nick.
In the surgery room, the Asgardian looked up, set eyes on the Skrull, and smiled, beckoning. "I'll see what I can do," said the Skrull, and headed into the theater.
Once she'd gone, Carol muttered, "You dragged her fourteen light years for a gunshot wound?"
Several Avengers bristled, and Thor retorted, "Had I been so far, Eir and I would have crossed that distance tenfold."
Carol huffed. "So who're all these guys?"
"We're the Avengers," said Lang.
Tony let out a weak, unhappy chuckle. "Earth's mightiest heroes."
Carol eyed them, and Nick added, "My little brainchild, from a few years back when you and your friends paid Earth a visit."
Her eyebrows went up, and she grinned. But the bleak mood in the room sank in, and she nodded towards the surgery room window. "So who is he?"
Nick sighed. What did you call the man currently bleeding to death in that room, the reason Natasha Romanoff was breathing so raggedly, Tony Stark could barely keep up his sarcasm, and kings and gods had rushed their finest medical talents to this building?
"He's the soul of the Avengers."
As the stunned crowd began to disperse, Peter started making his way to Avengers Compound. He encountered a dazed Ned a few blocks out, who asked in a weak voice, "Is Cap…dead?"
"Dunno, man," Peter breathed. "It didn't look good. It may take me awhile to get news – maybe longer than the press, but I'll try."
By the time he got into the Compound, the medical section was packed with people, and sure enough, that's where Mr. Stark had taken Cap.
Once Happy got Peter through the doors, he warned, "We're on a tight lockdown, kid. Not a lot of people know you, so stick close to me."
"How bad is it?" Peter whispered.
"Bad," said Happy. "No more pictures."
"Okay." Peter put the camera away. The first time he saw an Avenger, he could get why they wouldn't want press around. Every one of them was ashen-faced, walking around in a daze. Even Black Widow and Hawkeye, who were spitting into their phones about infiltration and the Sentinel program and Friends of Humanity, each had a hand on each other's shoulder like they were having trouble staying upright.
Near the surgery wing, it was worse. Hulk had shrunk back down to Bruce Banner, who was back in some ill-fitting clothes and leaning heavily against a wall. There had to be a half-dozen surgeons in the room itself; Peter couldn't even make out who was on the bed. At the surgery room's glass wall were Bucky Barnes and Falcon, their clothes still stained with Cap's blood, staring with glazed eyes at the surgeons at work.
Mr. Stark whirled through the waiting area every few minutes, rattling off comments to Hawkeye and Black Widow, chattering at the doctors, muttering to Dr. Banner – then he would stop at the glass and freeze, falling into the same dazed, horrified pose as Bucky Barnes. It was like he suddenly remembered that it was all real, and Captain America was really lying on the edge of death in that hospital bed.
When he finally turned away, he caught sight of Peter and Happy and swung past, ruffling Peter's hair. "Good to see you, kid. Stay out of trouble. Hey – wait, did you get pictures at the scene?"
"Yes," Peter breathed.
"Nat, Clint, c'mere! Kid, upload all your shots to Friday. Let's see if you got any different angles."
Peter found himself going over his shots with Black Widow and Hawkeye. Another time, another circumstance, Peter would've been out of his mind with pride that he had indeed captured images useful to the investigation. But it all rung so hollow because Peter could still see the haunted, red-rimmed eyes of the other Avengers each time they went back to check on what was going on.
The hours flew by, and only when May called to ask, "Are you coming home anytime soon?"did Peter realize it was dark outside. He'd been at Avengers Compound all day.
"Uh…if it's okay, I wanna stay here at the Compound. Some of my pictures had some useful info, and…everyone's…not good," he finished lamely. No, there wasn't a whole lot else Peter Parker or Spider-Man could do, but he wanted to support the Avengers anyway.
Tony broke into the call from somewhere else in the Compound. "Hey, actually, kiddo, I need you patrolling for a little while tonight. Keep your suit recording, see if you pick up any gossip, and let people know the Avengers are still on watch."
May was still uneasy, or more so than she often was with Mr. Stark. "Is that really safe tonight? What if they weren't only targeting Captain America? Oh – I promise I won't share information, but is there any news?"
Tony sighed and suddenly looked older than Peter could ever recall thinking of him. "Surgery's still in progress. It's still a fifty-fifty chance."
"My god. But…well, you see my point."
"My suit's bulletproof," Peter protested.
"We've got a lot of sympathetic investigators on the streets tonight, Aunt May," said Tony, not even bothering to flirt. "I've got all my suits patrolling, and War Machine and Black Panther are on watch internationally. I'll have my AI patched into his suit so we can flag any good info or any threats."
May pondered that, then said slowly, "Okay. I guess it'll help people to see Spider-Man out tonight. Afterwards, do you want him at the Compound or should he come home?"
"I can stay at the Compound," Peter blurted. Stupid, most of the other Avengers barely even knew him, but he really wanted to be here.
"You okay with Peter bunking over here? We're stretched pretty thin."
"Yeah, I guess I can't really complain. Just please be careful tonight. And – and – really, I'm so sorry. If I were the praying type, I'd be praying. I hope Captain Rogers makes it."
"Thanks," Tony murmured, getting that dazed, distracted look again.
On the streets, people called out to Spider-Man more than they ever had before, all with variations on the same question: "Is there any news on Captain America?"
Peter was forced to continuously repeat the official line: "Only that he's still in surgery, in critical condition. I know they all appreciate your good wishes."
There were a lot of cops out, as well as FBI, CIA, and SHIELD. Peter wasn't sure what he expected. He knew May was imagining the attack on Cap as just the first shot, with more gun-toting anti-enhanced whackjobs trying to murder every Avenger they saw – but that wasn't happening.
Rather, Peter had to intervene for some businesses who posted anti-enhanced propaganda in their windows, to keep said windows from getting broken by enraged Avengers fans. Not that those bigots were grateful for Spider-man's help.
In response to the resentful grumbles, Peter just said, "You're welcome" sarcastically before swinging off once the regular authorities got there.
Other than that, the city was quiet…and maybe it was just Peter's imagination, but the mood seemed grim everywhere. He dropped in on an Avengers-themed party at a bowling alley for a bunch of high schoolers just a year or two younger than him, and a bunch of them started to cry.
"We've been planning this for weeks, ya know?" said one girl. "We all keep watching the news in case they announce…"
"I'm praying so hard!"
"Thanks so much for coming, Spidey!"
Peter tried to make himself sound older and tougher than he felt. "Hey, I know every one of us Avengers and Cap are grateful for all the support. You guys try and have a good time, okay?"
When he got back to the Compound, surgery was still going on! Peter didn't know much medical stuff beyond first aid courses he'd taken, but he was pretty sure thirteen hours was a lot for a surgery, and they were still going!
"How much longer can the surgeons keep this up?!" he blurted.
An impressive dark-haired guy wearing a cape said, "They fortunately had many available surgeons, and the humans starting to rotate out. Captain America has a unique body due to his enhancements; he heals so quickly that certain areas have be constantly re-opened to prevent worse complications."
Well, that made Peter queasy. He recognized Scarlet Witch hovering next to one doctor, her red power concentrated on Cap's head. Peter could only just make out the ashen white profile of his face, but nothing to give any real clue of his condition. "What's Wanda Maximoff doing?"
"Backing up the anesthesiologist to ensure he doesn't feel any pain or start to awaken." The stranger frowned. "However, she's looking rather peaky herself."
Who was this guy? "I'm Peter, by the way."
"Doctor Strange."
"Oh, we're using our made-up names," Peter said, politely not mentioning that a superhero name of "Doctor Strange" was, well, strange. "Then I'm Spider-Man."
Mr. Stark let out a bark of laughter that made everyone jump. He flapped his hand at Peter and said between snorts, "Thanks, kid, I needed that."
"Doctor Stephen Strange," the stranger amended it.
"Oh, my bad." Peter was too distracted to really get embarrassed. "So are you helping? With the treatment?"
"No, my specialty was always neurology, and now…well, I just had some contacts among trauma surgeons. And I thought it was time the Avengers and I met."
"Hell of a moment to pick," mumbled Dr. Banner.
"I know this man," said Thor from the doorway. "His judgment is…reasonably sound. I've brought Eir, the finest healer in all of Asgard even before Ragnarok. She'll use all her skills to aid Steve. King T'Challa sent for Dr. B'gali from his realm." He cast a searching look at the rest of the Avengers. "Come along, all of you – Dr. Cho reports he is stable. You can't all stand here until you fall." He put a firm hand on Bucky Barnes' and Sam Wilson's shoulders. "You'll do Steve no good like this."
Bucky Barnes didn't seem to have heard. Sam Wilson murmured, "I know," but didn't move.
"How much longer does Cho think they'll be operating?" asked Tony.
"A few more hours at least, and after, he'll be placed in the regeneration cradle for at least a few hours more. Come, friend Bucky. You can't stand here covered in blood. Steve would be upset if he saw you this way." Thor tugged gently, and while Peter saw Tony hold his breath, Bucky wilted and let Thor lead him away.
Scott Lang appeared and chivvied Sam Wilson out of the room, but Tony shook his head and said, "I'll stick around for a while. I'll catch some z's when he's in the cradle." Dr. Banner wandered off too at Dr. Strange's urging. Tony eyed Strange. "You're being strangely solicitous, Doc. Not at all like your reputation."
"I might say the same of you, Stark," said Dr. Strange, without looking up.
Peter couldn't come up with anything else to do or say, so he just went to stand beside Tony. Mr. Stark really did look like he'd just gotten thirty years older. After a long silence, Tony murmured, "This wasn't supposed to happen. Not to him."
Peter looked at him, but Tony was still staring fixedly at Captain America's motionless form, as if he didn't even remember Peter was there.
Tony knew there'd be no point in trying to sleep. Pepper arrived close to midnight, and let him hold onto her for as long as he wanted. "You don't think you could come to bed now?"
He shook his head without looking up from her neck. "Nuh, need to stay awhile longer. Stuff to do."
Not really. Nat, Clint, and Rhodey had the Avengers' end of the investigation well in hand. The pro-Avengers factions in the FBI and CIA were bashing down doors left and right and had over a hundred anti-Avengers and Friends of Humanity creeps in custody. T'Challa was keeping an eye on the international scene but called almost every hour for updates.
There wasn't much left for Tony to do but wait…but he couldn't sleep.
Finally, just after dawn, the surgery team decided they'd done all they could, and shifted Steve into the regeneration cradle. A cleaned-up Bucky Barnes and Sam Wilson rushed in, their fingers pressed to the glass like desperate kids. The motionless, bone-white form in the doctors' arms didn't show any signs of life.
Wilson looked briefly at Bucky and Tony, then hurried back out of the room. Barnes just leaned forward against the glass.
"This wasn't supposed to happen."
When Bucky looked up, Tony realized he was the one who'd said it. He shook his head absently. "You know while you were under in Wakanda, the idiot managed to get himself infected with super-anthrax. That wasn't supposed to happen either."
Bucky's breath hitched, and he murmured without turning around, "Yeah, I heard about that. I could've warned you. That idiot always manages to get into things that aren't s'posed to happen."
"I heard too. About the war. My dad never shut up about him, all the time I was growing up. I hated Captain America's guts."
He'd been rambling, really, not thinking about what he was saying. Then he caught the look in Bucky's eyes as the older/younger man turned towards him, and fully expected a full-on Winter-Soldier-esque beatdown. Instead, Bucky just looked…perplexed, bordering on…amused? And something else, something that caused Bucky to make a noise that was both a laugh and a sob, and made his voice pitch up a little as he said, "You too, huh?" He quickly turned toward the nearest wall, breath hitching.
Tony just stared. "Wait, what?"
With a deep huff, Bucky gave up trying to hide his face and dropped onto one of the chairs, arms draped over his knees. "Steve…I'd've torn the world apart for Steve. But sometimes…god, I hated Captain America." He smiled weakly at Tony. "Hated your father too. For his part in it – shit, sorry – I didn't – I wasn't thinking. Goddammit." He dropped his face into his hands. "I swear I didn't remember him at – at the end."
"I…" Tony tried to navigate the jumbled words and veered away from the memory of that video. Steve was suddenly the safe topic. "But in World War II…you weren't glad he got stronger?"
"No, no, fuck, no, I was thrilled. He could live, without being on death's door at least three or four times a year, girls would actually notice him now, he could do anything he wanted." He cast desperate, wet eyes on Tony. "I didn't care that it was my turn to be invisible when he was in the room. He deserved it. It was so funny; he'd get so flustered when the girls started flirting. But then I realized…it meant we weren't going home. We could've gone home, started a new life. But Captain America had to stay, stay and fight the war, inspire the troops, go back into danger again and again and again, and I damn well wasn't going home without Steve. He was still my Steve, but…I never understood his fervor. Sometimes I hated him for it."
This…was not something Tony would've expected to hear from Bucky Barnes. It must've showed in his face, because Bucky laughed again. "Relax, Stark. Being jealous of the gods is understandable. The only thing I don't understand is why he risks so much for the likes of me again and again."
Tony felt like for the first time, he could really understand it all. So he said, "I do." Bucky blinked. Well, if it was confession hour, Tony figured he might as well run with it. "Back when you guys were on the lam, Vision and T'Challa said to me…if it were Rhodey, I'd've done what Steve did. They were right. And I only met Rhodey in my teens. I didn't have many friends who weren't hangers-on for Howard Stark's heir apparent. But he was…just something else entirely. He still is, after all this time, all the shit I've gotten into. I don't get him sometimes. God knows I wasn't much of a friend in return, even to Rhodey."
Someone cleared their throat from the doorway – aw, hell, of course, it was Rhodey. "Yeah, sometimes you weren't. Sometimes I wasn't. I doubt this one was always a saint," he gestured at Bucky, who grinned weakly, "and even the god among men in the other room who IS pulling through this probably did his share of stupid, selfish shit before the serum and after." Bucky burst out laughing through his tears and nodded. Rhodey went on, "Even so, you'd never give him up, you'd never let him down - "
"SERIOUSLY, Rhodey?!" Tony lunged to try and put Rhodey in a headlock as Bucky groaned in disgust, then glanced back. "Wait, how do you know Rick - "
"Stark, I'm a hundred and three, not dead. And I've had time on my hands."
Rhodey wrestled his way out of Tony's grip and sat down next to Bucky, clapping him on the back. "None of us are perfect. Not even Captain America, though my brethren in the Air Force'll kill me if they ever find out I said that. But somehow we've all pulled through. You both will, just like I have despite my best friend being a psychotic chihuahua." Tony sputtered, and Bucky burst out laughing. "Was Cap always that way, or did it come with the serum, y'know, running with the big guns?"
Bucky wipes his eyed. "He always was. You know how many fights he used to get into?"
"...didn't he have a whole slew of health problems?" Rhodey asked.
"Yeah. And that never stopped him. Most of the trouble I got into was started by him."
"Wow. I need to check my family tree. I think you might be my long-lost grandfather." Bucky snorted, but his humor faded and he got up and pressed a hand against the surgery room window again. "Hey." Rhodey looked from Bucky to Tony and back. "He's gonna make it. You hear me? He is. They're keeping it quiet from the press to hold down speculation, but all the surgeons are optimistic. He'll be okay."
Coming from Rhodey, Tony thought he could begin to believe it.
It was another four hours before Dr. Cho and the other medics examined the readings from the regeneration cradle and declared Steve would recover. Only after they took him out of the cradle did the Avengers start to breathe a little easier.
Steve still looked like death in the recovery room. Bucky flatly refused to leave him, and the majority of the Avengers spent the majority of their waking hours in his room too. (Hell, more of them would probably have stayed twenty-four/seven if there'd been enough space on the floor.)
As it was, Nat claimed the night shift along with Bucky, while Sam spent most of the day with a steady rotation of the others coming in and out.
They all ganged up on Wanda to spend at least forty-eight hours resting after the surgeries were over; she could barely stay upright. Vision and Clint walked her very unsteadily to a bedroom, and Betsy Braddock came in to help monitor Steve and make sure he stayed comfortable.
Nat had always preferred sleeping during the day and was unsurprised that Bucky was the same; it was easier to sleep with more allies awake and alert outside.
Tony tended to join them at night, claiming one of the three big armchairs that'd been moved into the room. Sometimes he'd quietly work, other times he dozed. Pepper poked her head in often and smiled at the sight of Tony out cold with the chair reclined. She draped a blanket over him, but Nat stopped her when she would've draped one over Bucky as well.
"You'll startle him, and he'll feel bad."
"He should at least use a chair!" Pepper huffed. Bucky was curled up on the floor.
"It's not comfortable," Nat lied, knowing full well why James Buchanan Barnes hated reclining in chairs.
Rhodey and T'Challa handled the political and legal frenzy along with Pepper. Early on the second morning, Nat and Tony came out of Steve's room to find them finishing up a teleconference-cum-shouting match with Dixon Wallace. "I'm thirty seconds away from telling the Justice Department to detain every damn one of you fugitives!"
"Go ahead, issue a press release, Congressman; your constituents will love that," Rhodey dared him. "They're not fugitives - they surrendered before court security decided to gun Steve Rogers down in broad daylight!"
"You've announced Rogers is recovering; we left you alone while he was in surgery. Barnes is not free to wander around."
"He's not wandering anywhere; he hasn't gone further than the bathroom twenty feet from here," Tony put in. "And remember, we're still a non-enforcement zone under the Sokovia Accords. While Barnes is here, you don't touch him, and the same goes for Wanda Maximoff and the rest."
Wallace bared his teeth. Still smarting from Tony embarrassing him in front of the ICC, Nat thought.
Wallace pressed, "The public won't be crying over Rogers forever; plenty of people thought letting you make a half-ass neutral zone in your Compound was a mistake. It won't take long before they remember you're a bunch of heavily-armed vigilantes who think you don't answer to anyone."
"Maybe," Rhodey conceded. "But after everything you and your faction have pulled, they sure as hell aren't gonna want the Avengers answering to you."
"Do what you like," said Pepper. "Our press office will respond as needed." With a cool smile, she ended the call, then turned grimly to the others. "We do need to keep the PR machine on top of this. The Daily Bugle is already accusing us of taking advantage of the sympathy for Cap."
"Do they really think Barnes is running around in here conspiring to overthrow the U.S. government?" Rhodey scoffed.
Peter Parker cleared his throat from the corner where he'd been lurking. "You could, uh, you could prove he's not. If people could see him now, they'd probably cry."
They all looked at the kid, then back towards Steve's room. Bucky had fallen asleep on the floor again, his head on his folded arms. Even Nat couldn't deny she had an urge to say, "Aww!" (Pepper did say it.)
"Do it," said Tony. "Just be ready to run."
"Tony!"
Peter took the picture, but said reluctantly, "The thing is, I've got an exclusive contract with the Daily Bugle."
Pepper rolled her eyes. "The Avengers press office will publish the picture without naming you, and I'll pay you for it under the table. Sorry, kiddo, this one won't get you a Pulitzer, but it might help protect a former POW."
The kid grinned more easily. "I can live with that." (In any case, his pictures of Bucky holding Steve just after the shooting were making people cry all over the world.)
Nat returned to Steve's room for an armchair nap, only to be awakened a few hours later a grinning Clint and Scott, and a couple of staff carrying a folding cot. "Spidey's picture went viral, and everybody who isn't currently a puddle of goo on the ground is demanding we get the man a bed," whispered Clint.
Nat smirked, and Bucky started awake. "Wha'? Wha's goin' on?" He blinked sleepily at Nat - if Peter got a picture of that, the fans would probably all have aneurysms - and quickly grew suspicious. "What's going on?" He looked himself up and down, finding no signs of a prank.
"Nothing. We just thought you should sleep on a cot."
"Are you sure we shouldn't bring him around just to orient him?" Bruce Banner asked the non-humans anxiously.
"Your Wanda Maximoff and Betsy Braddock have done well ensuring his comfort," Eir told them. "He'll wake when his body has recovered from the shock, and it will be easier if he's allowed to wake on his own."
Thor had great faith in Eir's skills, and although Thor had never met Varya, the Skrull, Eir's faith in her was enough. He would have felt no concern for the situation at all - were it not that the man they'd brought back from the edge of the death was Steve Rogers.
Seeing him with machinery forcing air into his lungs and tubes and lines connected to his body made Thor want to rip him free of those fetters. It all looked so terribly painful, despite his rational awareness that Wanda and Betsy Braddock had taken all pain from Steve.
So when Eir huffed at the humans' doubts, Thor spoke up for them. "Forgive them - that is to say, forgive us. You know I'm well aware of your skills and entirely glad to trust Dr. Varya as well. It's only that Steve Rogers is a man so noble, so dear in the hearts of the people of this world, and to none more than those in this building, that his loss would be a blow beyond recovery."
Varya tilted her head. "Carol tells me your Nick Fury calls him the soul of the Avengers."
Thor was surprised; Fury always seemed so cool and unsentimental. Well, every Avenger including Thor had been pushed to the limits of their hearts by the thought of losing Steve - why should Fury be any different?
"He's right."
Steve's friend Bucky ganged up on Wanda with the support of Vision and Sam Wilson; she'd completely exhausted herself during his treatment. So while Bucky was awake, she had the use of the cot placed in Steve's recovery room.
That late morning, Bucky had relinquished the comfortable chairs to Tony, Sam, and Natasha while he sat on the floor chatting with the drowsy Wanda.
Thor was amused by Tony's unmistakable hovering. It had been a shock to learn Tony and Steve's usual squabbles had devolved into a near-estrangement, yet Tony had been no less stricken by these events than any Avenger. He and the others were working feverishly, communicating with Tony's business, their governments, and their judges of the law, but like the rest of Steve's friends, he stayed close, watching over Steve with anxious eyes.
But Wanda suddenly turned back towards Steve's bed with a soft yelp. In an instant, they all forgot everything else.
Thor could make out little until Steve began to twitch and make noises of distress, but Wanda hissed, catching his hand. "No, Steve, it's okay! Don't panic! Think to me."
Eir called out, "Don't let him move."
"I've got it - easy, Steve, easy..." Wanda lowered her voice to a murmur. Natasha tucked herself in behind Wanda and stroked Steve's hair. "I promise, the team is safe. You were the only one of us hit." She shuddered and looked over her shoulder. "Can you take that tube out of his throat now?"
"He shouldn't have any trouble breathing on his own," said Bruce. "Guys, lemme through, he's in good condition. It'll be okay."
Thor had to step in and gently tug Bucky and Sam out of the way so Bruce could disconnect Steve from the respirator. Natasha and Wanda wiped his eyes clean with a wet cloth so he could open them.
A soft, collective intake of breath whispered through the room as they all gazed into Steve Rogers' blue, bleary but so-beautifully-alive eyes. "How you feeling, Cap?" Sam whispered.
"No talking yet," Bruce cautioned.
Wanda grinned and wiped her own eyes. "That's what I'm here for - he says he feels like we finally found a drug that works. I'm afraid most of that is Betsy and me."
Steve's eyes sought out and wandered over everyone in the room, lingering on the doorway as the remaining Avengers crowded in. Flouting Bruce's instruction, he smiled and murmured, "Good t'be back."
To Be Continued...
Coming Soon: As Steve recovers, our heroes ponder the motives behind the shooting, and the U.S. government struggles to decide how to deal with the dueling calls for justice and mercy for the Avengers and Bucky Barnes.
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