Steve awoke in Natasha's lap, his eyelids fluttering open to see her leaning over him. "…..eve….Steve…." She was saying quietly, trying to get his attention.
"….'Tasha..?" He murmured, a shiver wracking his body, causing his limbs to shudder. He was freezing.
She nodded, a tear slipping from her eye. "It's me, Steve. Are you alright? Can you hear me?" Her voice was full of concern and worry. Why was she crying?
"'m fine…" He lied, sighing heavily. The truth was he felt sick. Really sick. Hospital sick. He glanced around, suddenly realizing that he was in the back of a car. "Where 'm I?" Steve slurred.
"You're in Tony's car. What on Earth were you thinking? Running off in the middle of the night, falling asleep on the sidewalk and nearly freezing to death?! What the hell? This isn't like you! You had us worried sick!" Natasha scolded. He flinched, her voice seething with anger.
"I'm sorry. I just…wanted to be alone….." He whispered, glancing out the window at the dark sky above.
She sighed angrily, trying to calm herself. It wasn't exactly his fault. She tried to remind herself of that. "Just try to be more careful, okay? I'd be devastated if anything happened to you."
About five minutes later, they were walking through the front door of the avengers tower, Steve immediately heading up to his room. Natasha thought about following him, just in case, but she decided not to. He needed rest. They all did.
Steve climbed into his bed after entering his room. He slowly slid under the blankets, lying his head down on the pillow. He allowed his eyelids to slip closed. A few minutes had passed and he was sound asleep.
Steve was in a room at a party, people all around him. He studied his surroundings, looking at everything and everyone. Every person was dressed in formal outfits, including himself. He entered another room, one that had less people in it than the other one. Suddenly a sickeningly familiar voice echoed into his ears and he spun around. His eyes landed on a figure with short-ish, curly brown hair and chocolate brown eyes. She was wearing a sparkling red dress, and she looked absolutely fabulous. "Are you ready for our dance?" She asked, her voice thick with a British accent.
"Peggy…..!" He gasped, his jaw dropping open. "But I thought…."
"C'mon Steve, this way," She took his arm and pulled him onto the dance floor, wrapping her arms around his neck. She laid her head on his shoulder as they swayed back and forth to the rhythm of the slow song. "Steve…." Peggy whispered, pulling her head up from his shoulder and staring deeply into his ice-blue eyes. "Kiss me, Steve…." She murmured, closing her eyes and leaning in, waiting for his lips to touch hers. Steve smiled, leaning in to give her a passionate kiss, but as soon as their lips touched, he awoke, sweat pouring down his face.
No…..it wasn't sweat. It was tears. A dream? It couldn't have been! It had to be real! He started panting heavily, climbing out of his bed and stumbling over to the phone. He called the place that Peggy had been staying in and asked the lady on the other line how she was doing.
"I'm so sorry. We regret to inform you that Ms. Carter has passed away," The lady stated, her words heavy and thick with grief. His heart shattered once again, and his grip on the phone loosened. The phone fell to the floor, making a clanking sound as it hit the wood flooring. He sunk to his knees, arms at his sides. This couldn't be real. It couldn't!
That was the final straw. Steve ran into the bathroom and started opening up bottles of Tylenol, downing at least five of them. If he couldn't have Peggy, then no one could have him. He downed a couple more bottles, chewing the all of the pills and swallowing them. Steve suddenly felt dizzy. His vision became hazy, and he started to smell something that smelled like burning fumes. He crumpled to the ground, his back going ramrod straight. He started shaking, a full body tremor that started at the core and rippled through him, trickling into his limbs and causing to flail and spasm. Steve slipped into unconsciousness just as Natasha came running into the room, seeing Steve on the floor. "Tony! TONY!" She screamed. "Call 911! Steve's having a seizure!"
White froth had filled Steve's mouth. Natasha flipped him onto his side, watching as the froth and a little bit of bile and mucus spilled out of his mouth onto the floor.
Her eyes caught sight of the empty pill bottles and she groaned. "No….no, no, no, no…..shit!"
Tony came running into the room a few minutes later, paramedics behind him. By then Steve's seizure had stopped, but he was barely breathing. The paramedics wiped the bile, mucus, and froth from Steve's lips, then they placed an oxygen mask over his mouth and nose.
"Why Steve? Why…..?" She murmured, staring at him with tears in her eyes. "Please be okay…." She whispered, holding his hand. The paramedics lifted him up, placing him on a gurney and wheeling him into the ambulance.