A/N: Hey everyone!

If any of you are in the Florida area, please be careful and take this weather seriously!

Reviews!

Guest: Thank you! I'm so glad that you do!
TheJollyRoger: I like your name! She probably will. She's Natalia Romanova after all ;) I checked out the imdb and didn't see his name there...so I guess it's a rumor for now. But that would be an interesting turn of events... Also, did you see who's directing it? THE RUSSO BROS!
Qweb: Yes, burns are awful. I haven't had a burn to the extent that she has, but I've helped someone who has. It's not a pretty sight. Yep, she will be happy.

Alright, on to story stuff!

Alright, there is some angst in this chapter, but honestly, after the previous one, I think that would be a given.

This chapter was inspired by Luke Bryan's I See You. Besides that, not much connection to the song. It's a good song!

Again, I own nothing. I'm content with writing little, probably wrong turn of canon events for my enjoyment. I am making NO money off of this.

Warning: Discussion of burns in a lightly clinical manner. Nothing graphic.

I See You

Later that night

Steve watched with some fascination as the kind brunette nurse smeared burn cream on the palms of his hands and his fingers. Faintly, he could hear her saying how lucky he was to only have first degree burns.

The super soldier knew that it wasn't luck, but he didn't tell her that.

He's mind was focused on Clint, who stood just outside his room in the Emergency Room. Clint had somehow managed to escape the blaze with only lightly singed hair, and was currently speaking with the Patient Advocate of this ER. She was a kindly looking woman, with soft gray-blonde curls circling her grandmotherly face. She wasn't as old as Steve truly was, maybe in her mid to late fifties, and she looked like she knew what she was doing.

And Clint didn't look like he was on the offensive or defensive.

Good news, perhaps?

"Mr. Rogers?" The nurse –what was her name again? – spoke up, catching his attention. "I'm all done here. I'll be back in a bit with your discharge instructions and some prescriptions."

Steve nodded, eyeing her badge for a moment before smiling at her, praying that it didn't look too fake. "Thank you, Karen."

She smiled and exited the room.

Once the door was closed behind her, Steve reached behind him to untie the ties of the hospital gown he had been forced to wear, but the opening of the door again halted his actions.

"I thought," Clint said, raising an eyebrow at the soldier. "That the doc said for you to relax."

"I'm being released," Steve said simply, dropping his arms as the archer closed the curtain to the door and walked behind the other man. A few moments later, the gown loosened as Clint undid the knots. "Any news?"

"I've got good and bad news." Clint replied evenly, taking the gown from Steve and handing him a button up shirt he had stuffed in a bag before they left the ranch. "Which do you want to hear first?"

The soldier swallowed thickly. There was bad news… "Bad…" he whispered, taking the shirt, but not putting it on just yet. His eyes locked on Clint.

Clint took a seat beside Steve on the hospital cot. "The fire consumed all the feed and hay in the barn. The barn collapsed shortly after we left. Laura has yet to find Boots and Tatiana. And Nat…"

Steve felt his heart hit the floor at Clint's mentioning of Natalia, dread crawling up his throat, threatening to choke him.

"And Nat's in a coma."

Not dead.

Not good, but not dead.

His blue eyes stung as he blinked rapidly at this news. He wasn't sure if he was relieved or joyful or just more panicked. His emotions were all over the place and he didn't like it. "H-how bad is she?" He could feel his accent in his voice as he tried to speak around the lump in his throat.

"A beam fell on her, barely missing her head, but clipped her shoulders, driving her to the ground. They didn't find any evidence of a traumatic brain injury, but she was pretty scratched up from the beam. Her back and upper arms received a majority of the burns, but none of the burns wrap around any vital organs, her neck, or a limb."

Steve bit his lip hard, unfolding the shirt and slipping his arms through the holes in an effort to not clench his hands into fists and reinjure the already damaged tissue. 27% of her body was burned. 27%.

He knew the rule of 9s. The back was classified as 18% and each arm was 4.5%. Non-circumferential burns were less critical…but…

"Are her burns second or third degree?"

Clint looked away, his jaw clenched as if he was remembering seeing those burns before his very eyes. "Both. Where the beam wasn't on back has second degree burns. Where the beam fell on her has third degree burns."

Steve's arms shook as he did his best to not press the palms of his hands to his eyes.

This is your fault. You should have gone into that barn. You should be in that bed. You can handle that—

"Wanna hear the good news?" Clint said, his voice lightening.

The soldier blinked but didn't look up at the archer, the demon in his head stopping for a minute. "That's all the bad news?"

Clint smiled, standing and walking over to the door. "Laura found Lieutenant and he's doing well, no burns, no injuries. Nat's in the best burn center in the state. And…"

Steve looked up at Clint's dramatic pause, and found eight pairs of eyes staring back at him. Blinking, he jumped to his feet as Clint let Wanda Maximoff in. The young woman practically ran towards him, and Steve barely had enough time to open his arms before she crashed into his chest.

"I called some friends." Clint finished, as the other Avengers filing into the room.

Tony Stark, Sam Wilson, Vision and Thor walked over to surround their Captain, while Drs. Bruce Banner and Helen Cho kept to the back of the room.

Steve looked around in shock at his friends.

"Wanda," Tony admonished, gently. "Stop hogging the man. He just held up a barn, I think he could use a break."

The woman's arms only tightened around the super soldier, and Steve realized that her shoulders were shaking. Wrapping his arms around her, he looked at Tony. "Leave her be," He said, his voice soft. "She's fine."

"We came as quickly as we could, Captain." Thor's booming voice cut in, just as loud as Steve remembered it to be. "How is Lady Natasha?"

The Captain blinked for a moment, blue eyes filled with confusion. Who is N—oh. Duh.

"Nat's…she's hurt." He said, his voice thickening by the syllable. He wasn't sure if he could vocalize any more about her condition, so he looked at Clint, hoping the other man would take the initiative.

And take the initiative he did. "I'll explain how she is, but we'll need to go to another room. Kim says there is a small room around the corner that we can sit in."

Steve nodded his thanks to the archer as the shorter man lead everyone, save Wanda and the soldier, out of the room.

And as they were leaving, the nurse from before – Karen, right? – entered the room. "Quite a lot of visitors, Mr. Rogers."

Steve chuckled a bit, hoping that it didn't sound as fake to her as it did to himself. "Yeah. I guess they all heard about the fire."

Karen smiled lightly, showing him some papers that she had in her hands. "Well, I won't keep you long. This is your discharge paperwork. The instructions are about burns, how to dress them, signs of worsening and when to come back. Also there is script for an antibiotic in here as well. Just a precaution from the Doc."

Wanda turned in Steve's arms and faced the nurse once she was done. "We'll see that he follows the instructions to the letter." She said, her voice thick with her accent and obviously wanting the woman to leave so they could go.

"Good," Karen took the Sokovian's words in stride. "The rest of your group is in the first room around the corner to the right. Have a good rest of your night."

"Thank you," Steve said, moving towards the door with hurried steps, Wanda holding his arm the whole way.

Dawn the next day

"Steve, for Gosh sake, sit your ass down." Tony ordered from his own seat in the conference room in the Emergency Room that they had spent the night in.

The blonde was tempted to keep pacing, if only to annoy the billionaire even more. But Sam, who had gotten up from his seat, stood in his path, arms crossed and looking exhausted.

"Come on, Cap," The dark skinned man said softly, but firmly. "Wearing a hole in the floor isn't gonna help her."

Steve stared at Sam for a long moment, torn between continuing to pace and doing what his friends wanted him to do, until his body made the decision for him and exhaustion slapped him upside the head. The lack of sleep finally catching up with him.

When was the last time I slept? Last night? The night before?

It felt like ages ago.

With a slouch of defeat, Steve let Sam guide him to an empty chair next to a sleeping Wanda who was leaning against Vision.

It was quiet for a long moment as Steve leaned his head back and closed his eyes. And, like the soldier he was, fell promptly asleep.

When Tony was sure the Captain was asleep he nodded his head towards the door, eyes locked on Sam. The other man lifted an eyebrow, but stood and followed the billionaire out of the room.

Once the door clicked close, Tony let loose. "Okay. What the actual hell is going on?" He begins, his voice in a harsh growl. "Capsicle and Romanoff run off after the whole Thanos debacle and Clint only tells us about where they are now? Did you know about this?" His eyes narrow, accusing.

"No." Sam replies, simply. His voice calm. "Steve and Nat didn't let me in on their plans, and frankly, they didn't need to. They deserve a break."

The irritation in Tony's eyes cooled, as if the knowledge that he wasn't the only one left in the dark was enough to quench the anger boiling in his chest. "Okay. Glad to know I'm not the only one baffled by this."

Sam nodded. "I don't think it was anything personal, Stark. I'm pretty sure it was just because they wanted to get away."

The inventor opened his mouth, as if to add a comment, but was interrupted by the door they had just come from opening abruptly, revealing Vision, who's expression was somewhere between worry and confusion.

"What is it?" the former military man asked.

The android moved aside to reveal Wanda trying to wake Steve, who was thrashing about in his chair. "He won't wake."

Sam breathed a curse and rushed to his Captain's side, his hands clamping down on the flailing arms to prevent the sleeping man from further injury. "Captain!" He shouted in the man's face, praying that it would snap Steve out of whatever horror was going on behind those lids.

The response was nearly instantaneous as Steve's eyes flashed open, his chest heaving as he gasped for breath, his head moving from side to side as he searched the room. "Nat!" He called out, his voice sounding dry and broken. "W-Where's Nat!"

"Safe." Sam stated clearly, calmly. "And so are you. Dr. Cho and Clint are with Nat now."

Steve visibly relaxed, leaning his head back on the wall, a strange sound between a hiccup and a sob escaping his chest. Sam let up on the man's arms when he was sure he wasn't going to damage his injured hands.

"Well," A voice said from the doorway. "You are half right, Sam."

The occupants of the room turned to look. Clint stood there, a grim look on his face. "The doctor is allowing for visitors now." He said, looking pointedly at Steve.

The Captain shot to his feet. "Is she…?"

"Awake?" The archer finished and shook his head. "No."

Steve's head drooped in acknowledgement, that strange sound escaping his chest once more. His eyes moved to Wanda, who stood beside him, looking very worried. "Only one visitor at a time?" He asked the archer.

"For now."

The blonde seemed to be in some debate with himself as his eyebrows furrowed and he stared at a non-existent point between his nose and the floor. He was interrupted in his thoughts by Sam, who gave him a push towards the door. He blinked back at the man.

"Go." Wanda practically ordered. "Let us know how mom's doing."

Sam cracked a smile. "Yeah, old man. Get going. She's not one to be kept waiting."

Steve's grin came a bit more forcefully, with a shake of his head. "You know she'd have your hides if she heard you say that."

The dark skinned man shrugged. "It's not like she hasn't already. Just get out of here already. The floor needs a break from you walking on it."

He didn't have to be told a third time.

Steve's hand shook as he reached for the handle of Natalia's room's door. The curtain of the room was pulled closed and he had no idea what he would see.

And his imagination had no problem with creating the worst possible scenario.

He was grateful that Clint didn't nag him about his hesitation, but he could feel the archer's eyes on him. Staring into his face. Studying. Processing information.

Must be a spy thing…

"I'm gonna grab a cup of coffee." The man finally spoke up, filling the hesitant silence. "Want anything?"

The surprise from Clint speaking up forced Steve to move his hand. The cool of the metal handle was felt on his still warm skin under the bandages on his fingers. Reminding him of ice.

Shaking off that thought before it became more than just a thought, he shook his head and pulled the door open.

"I'll be back soon, okay?"

Another nod as the soldier made his way into the room.

The smell of the hospital was already thick in his nose, but the smell in this room just made him nauseated. Taking a steadying breath, he kept his eyes on his feet until he had closed the door and curtain behind him before he gave himself permission to look at the bed, and more importantly, the occupant of the room.

It was so…white, almost painfully so in this room. Sure, the lights were dimmed a bit, but the stark lack of color was only highlighted by the lower light. The room was meant for function and healing…not comfort.

It was such a contrast from the last room he had seen Natalia sleeping in.

And the contrast didn't end there. Spread against the whiteness of the pillow under her head, her hair screamed at him, beckoning him with its fierce red, the same color as the flames that put her here.

Lieutenant!

He sat quietly in the chair beside her, his eyes intently focused on her face. The fire had not touched it, had not marred her beauty.

And he found himself frowning, wondering why she wasn't on her stomach…the burns were on her back…so…

Possible brain injury. A part of his brain spoke up as he took in the bandage that wrapped around her crown. The beam that landed on her must have clipped her head before driving her to the ground…

Swallowing thickly, his eyes moved of their own fruition, taking in all the injuries she had suffered that he could see.

A thick bandage wrapped around her shoulders which were visible over the thin sheet that appeared to have fallen off of her a bit. With a shaking hand, he reached out and pulled the thin and coarse fabric up higher, persevering more of her dignity.

His damaged fingers brushed her chin, and he felt the knot in his throat tighten at the softness of her skin.

It should be me in this bed.

His heart clenched painfully at the guilt that threatened to overwhelm him. His hands shook, as if debating if he should risk damaging his hands more and pressing them to his face or to grip her hand which rested, untouched by the flames, atop the sheet. Eventually, he settled for resting his hands in his lap.

You aren't worthy enough to touch her. Not after what happened.

His thoughts were broken by the sound of the door opening. Steve stood quickly as a man wearing a white lab coat and a badge entered.

The newcomer wore a pair of wire framed, rectangular glasses and had short-almost military short- cropped salt and pepper hair. He had a large smile on his round face that matched the one in his serious yet pleasant brown eyes.

"Doctor," Steve said, offering his injured right hand for a handshake out of pure reflex.

The doctor lifted an eyebrow at the Steve's hand. "That might not be a good idea with those burns of yours, Mr…"

"Rogers." Steve finished, retracting his hand sheepishly, his name feeling odd on his tongue after saying it so many times tonight. "Steve Rogers."

The doctor's smile returned. "I'll shake your hand once your hand heals, how about that, Mr. Rogers. Pleasure to meet you all the same." He gestures for Steve to sit again. "I'm Dr. Tomas, Ms. Romanova's physician. You can sit."

Steve did as he was directed and Dr. Tomas followed suit, sitting across from the soldier.

"So," Dr. Tomas began. "I see you and Ms. Romanova have had quite an eventful night."

The soldier nodded, not trusting his voice for the moment.

"I was hoping you may be able to fill in some of the details." The doctor continued, his warm brown eyes resting on Steve's face. "Mr. Barton has been quite helpful, but you were there from the beginning. I'll be sending her for some more testing, and you're telling of the event tonight may help me find something I may have missed."

Like why she's in a coma. The voice in the back of his head finishes.

"Of course," Steve replies, clearing his throat. Anything to help her. "Where should I start?"

The doctor leaned back in his chair. "From the beginning of the fire."

And so he did.

A/N: And that's the end of this chapter.

The next chapter will pick up in the hospital, pretty much right after Steve finishes talking with Dr. Tomas. This chapter just kept going and going and going...so I decided to divide it up. I should have the next chapter up soon!

Side note: Dr. Tomas' comment about the burns on Steve's hand is because he recognizes the bandage. I'm pretty sure Steve's doc didn't break confidentiality by discussing his patient with another doctor.

Thank you for reading! Please leave a review if you like!

~Rachel