The longer she thinks about it, the more suspicious she becomes. Not because Steve doesn't deserve a gorgeous girl to fall in love with him, but the timing and everything seems too coincidental. So she texts Bucky and Clint the next morning.
N: get to Milo's early, at least 15 minutes
C: why?
N: reconnaissance
B: ?
N: we're going to spy on them. I'm going to text Steve that we will meet him there.
C: Nat…
N: don't Nat me, birdbrain. This is Steve we're talking about.
B: and you call me overprotective.
N: You don't think maybe she saw his face in the papers and thought she could get in on the action? She got Steve, who is tightly connected to the richest family in America and who is, to put it lightly, inexperienced in love, to fall for her in two days and basically admit he wants to marry her? Tell me it doesn't smell fishy.
C: I really hope not… he'll be crushed
B: I'll be there at 12:45
N: good.
—-
Clint finishes his early morning shift, checking the screws and climbing up to check the connections. He's the quickest at it, and is able to do it without a partner, so his boss had given him a raise just to do it each Sunday. He ruminates over what Natasha had texted.
He really really hopes she's just being her usual skeptical self. He's fine with them acting a little overprotective. After everything with Steve it's warranted. But actually having to crush the kids' spirits even more?
Clint couldn't do it.
They all knew something was wrong. But they didn't know what.
When Steve was in the hospital before his freshman year finding out he'd only live till 30, well… Clint's ashamed to admit that had been 15 years of time. It had of course been awful and would be way too soon, but it had still seemed far off.
But now he's 17 and he's down to 22? It's bad enough what he's gone through in his life outside of his health, but to add in the shortened life span?
Just seems cruel.
So he really really hopes she's the real deal.
He cleans up his tools and shimmies down, hanging up his work gear and waving goodbye to his boss.
He runs home, showers, ignores the way his father rolls his eyes at him when he greets Melissa and tells her about his morning.
He has no idea why she puts up with him.
"Clint."
He looks towards his dad, "yeah?"
"I've been thinking."
That's not a phrase he likes to hear. "Yeah?"
"I think, now that you're 19, it's time for you to move out."
Clint blinks in surprise, as Melissa does the same.
He's been saving every dollar so he can attend college.
If he gets an apartment or rents a room… he won't be able to afford it.
"Could I…" he starts, hating having to ask his dad for anything, "could I have a bit more time? Or maybe… pay you rent for my room?"
"Clint," Melissa starts, "No way, you're not paying to live here." She turns to his dad, "you're springing this up out of nowhere, why do you want him to move out?"
"I just think it's time he learns the responsibilities of the real world. Time to leave the nest. I'll give you to the New Year. Then I want you out, you understand Clint?"
The New Year? That's barely three weeks away…
His jaw is clenched as he responds. "Yes, sir."
—
Bucky tries to work on his essay that's due before Christmas break, he tries to focus but his mind drifts as he looks at the clock.
At noon he closes his text book and takes a quick shower. Waving goodbye to his parents who he promises to give a full report to when he returns. They'd been overjoyed to hear Steve had found a girl, and he was trying to stay positive as well. But Natasha's text did ring in his mind.
He walks through Milo's at 12:46 and is promptly pulled behind the counter.
The yelp that leaves him as he's shoved down is silenced by a hand over his mouth. Natasha is staring at him with a grin and those intense green eyes.
"Shh." She huffs, a smirk teasing her lips.
"They're not even here yet!" He grouses, shifting into a more comfortable position.
"Um, hello?"
Clint's uncle, Ricky, looks at them questioningly as he exits from the fridge room. "Any particular reason you're hiding behind my counter?"
"Steve's got a date and we're meeting her for the first time. Wanna get some intel before we do."
"Woah, woah, woah." Ricky says in a rush, "you're telling me Steve has a date and no one told me?"
"We just found out last night." Natasha adds, peering barely over the counter. "If you see Clint tell him to come hide."
Ricky nods and gets back to business, prepping for the afternoon.
Clint joins them not a few minutes later, and they talk quietly behind the counter. Bucky notices that Clint seems distracted, but he doesn't have time to ask as the doorbell jingles.
And there she is. The girl from the picture. And it's almost hard to process that she's even more beautiful than she was in the photo.
"Geez." He hears Natasha mutter, "try hard much?" And that makes Bucky smile. He chuckles softly, and Natasha gives her signature frown. But he just laughs again, "you're more beautiful than her, don't worry."
She scoffs at him, but her eyes soften and he knows he said the right thing.
They watch as she looks briefly about before settling into a booth, facing the door. She's quite early and he can't decide if that's a mark in her favor or a sign that she's up to something.
She pulls out her phone, sets it on the table, and then pulls a tablet from her bag and begins typing away. They look at each other and shrug.
But it's the next person through the door that gives them a real shock.
Tony.
"What the hell is he doing here!" Natasha seethes, at the same time that Clint laughs.
"Guy can't help himself. He heard we were meeting Steve's girl and must have decided he didn't want to be left out."
Bucky gets Ricky's attention, "call Tony over!"
"Hey, Tony!" Ricky says in a jovial voice, "good to see you again. I've got three specials all wrapped up and ready to go for you." He waves him over and talks to him about mundane things until he's maneuvered Tony around the counter and gotten him in eyesight of the three. Tony looks at them blankly before rolling his eyes and dropping silently. Peggy hadn't looked up during the entire exchange.
"Our ideas of 'scoping out the girl' are very different." He says quietly with an eyebrow raise.
They all glare at each other fondly and then Tony is tapping something on his phone and pulls a tiny device out of his jacket pocket. He sets it on the ground and begins controlling its movements on his phone. It's a spider, similar to the one he gave to Peter a few Christmases ago. They watch as it scuttles between chairs and slides underneath the booth where she's sitting. It settles against the table's support, hidden from their eyes. He taps a final button and hands them each an earbud. Bucky doesn't even question it. Tony always has something ridiculous up his sleeve.
One o'clock passes and Bucky tries to stay calm. There's a million non-threatening reasons for why Steve might be late. But at 1:11, Tony must feel the tension radiating off the group and starts tapping away on his phone.
His voice is tight when he speaks, "why does it say Steve is in Queens?" He looks up, a bit panicked, and they're all about to bolt from their positions when the doorbell rings again and they whip their heads towards who enters.
Steve walks in slowly, he always walks slowly. But Bucky can already see the giant bruise blooming across his cheek and he feels his eyes widen in shock and he's about to stand up and ask what the hell happened, but Natasha's hand grabs his arms and stops him. He looks down, ready to argue but she gestures with her head, "trial by fire." She whispers at him.
He clenches his jaw but nods, settling back behind the counter and keeping his eyes peering over the edge.
Steve approaches Peggy and she glances up, a smile is on her face but immediately shifting to displeased surprise, Tony's device picks up her words.
"Steve? What the hell happened?" They all look at each other and gape, she's British! Clint mouths.
"I, uh-" he starts, as she stands and stares at him, her fingers ghosting over the bruise, "I—" he doesn't seem to be able to finish his sentence and the girl looks at him briefly before walking towards the counter where Clint's uncle is currently slicing deli meats.
"Excuse me, sir?" She asks, approaching the counter and causing them all to duck behind it further, "do you possibly have a bag of ice or something cold I could use?"
Ricky looks up and sees Steve who feebly waves at him.
"Steve! What the hell happened!" He calls, "hold on." He disappears and comes back with a baggy full of ice. Which he hands to her and looks at Steve. "You going to tell me what happened?"
They watch as Steve grimaces, wincing at the way that stretches the bruise, "I think I got mugged, again..."
All four of them freeze behind the counter as Ricky splutters in shock. But the girl's voice is loud and clear.
"What! Where? You tell me what they looked like and where right this instant!"
They stare in surprise at her protectiveness and Bucky mentally puts a tally in her box of wins.
"Pegs," Steve says with a soft laugh, "it doesn't matter. It's just stuff."
"It does so matter. I'll give those bastards a piece of my mind!"
He laughs again and turns to Ricky, "hey, you mind not mentioning the mugging part to the other three when they get here?"
Bucky can sense the way Ricky stiffens, "uh… why?"
Steve scratches at the back of his head, "they jumped me cuz of the phone I was holding, so if you tell them, they're going to call you-know-who and you know how he gets when he feels like something's his fault when it isn't." Bucky looks over to Tony whose face is now translucent and eyes a thousand yards away.
Uncle Ricky's voice is a bit raw when he nods and responds, "uh, sure, Steve. I'll let you tell them."
Steve blinks at him and just sighs, "I will at some point. It's a little fresh right now."
"Steve," the girl says, her voice still fueled with fury, "I need you to tell me where this happened."
"Peggy," he smiles, leading her back to the booth, their voices going back through the earbuds, "I'm fine! I promise. Everything's replaceable."
"You're not." She snaps, eyebrows pulled down in annoyance. And the girl gets another tally in her win box. "What if they'd really hurt you?"
"I promise they didn't. Just some bruises."
The girl goes quiet for a second before she's turning to Steve and her voice getting very crisp, "bruises. Plural?" She points to the one large bruise on his face and they all see him wince.
"Uh." He says softly, "yeah. Bruise. Just the one."
"You're a terrible liar, Steven, we've already been over this."
Steve changes the subject, "I'm surprised they're not here yet."
Bucky watches as her eyes dart to the counter for a millisecond before turning back towards Steve. "I'm sure they have their reasons."
Steve nods and leans back, pressing the ice against his face and grimacing, "I'm going to get so much crap for this." He says in a voice that attempts to be joking, but misses, "they're going to yell at me because they think I go looking for this kind of thing, but I swear it just finds me."
"What type of thing?" She asks.
"Fights, or I dunno, anything that gets me beat up. People see my size and I'm like a magnet for their bullying fantasies."
All four of them turn towards each other, eyes wide at Steve's candor. They wait silently for her response to his dig about his own size.
"You know," she responds blithely, "I can't quite recall the last time you kissed me. I think you'll need to refresh my memory."
Steve laughs and shakes his head, "and you call me impossible."
"If you don't kiss me this insta—"
Bucky practically chokes on his surprise at the way Steve pulls her close, closing the distance and cutting her sentence off. It's not a lengthy kiss, or an overly affectionate display, but he'd be lying if he said the whole place didn't charge with the electricity from it.
"There." Steve says with a smirk on his face, "remember now?"
"Hmm." She responds, her own eyes dancing at Steve, "I suppose. But I'll admit I need reminders often."
Steve laughs, "I'd call them to see what's taking so long but…" he shrugs and laughs, then they pause and listen as he sucks in a sharp breath of air, "ow—" he starts, while replacing the ice onto his face, "maybe they forgot."
"What was that?" She asks, "does your cheek hurt that badly? Could they have fractured it?"
"No, no." Steve says in a rush, "I'm sure it's fine. I want you to meet them, I hope they're on their way."
Peggy puts her hand on Steve's thigh and Bucky swears she glances back at the counter. "I don't think they forgot. I'm sure something's holding them up. Tell me about them?"
Steve's grin widens, "well you're only meeting 3 today, one's away at college. But then I'll have to take you to meet my dad and siblings too—"
Dad.
He called Sam dad.
He looks over to the others to gauge their reaction. Natasha's looking at him, and he knows she's never heard him call Sam that.
"So first is Bucky, he and I met right before my freshman year and we clicked pretty quickly. He's real cool, I don't know why he's friends with me, hell, I don't know why any of them decided to be my friend but I'm lucky they did—"
"Steve." Peggy says firmly, "humility is appreciated. Self-deprecation is not."
He chuckles, "once you meet them you'll see. You'll fit right in, all cool and sleek and taller than a 6th grader."
"Steve, I swear—"
He laughs, a truly relaxed laugh, "okay, okay, I'm done, anyways, then there's Natasha. She and Bucky are dating and she's super cool. Way too smart and can dance and even fight like a pro. She's got a little sister that lives with us, and they're like sisters to me now too. I think you and her will get along well, both badass women."
Peggy laughs and Natasha's hand finds his, squeezing it.
"Then Clint—" Steve starts, "I can't even explain Clint. He's hilarious. The dry humor of the group, and he always knows everything. This is his uncle's shop actually—"
"Oh really?" Another eye flick to the counter.
"Mhmm. And he works at this rock climbing place and I swear he's like a monkey, it's crazy. All in all, we're a misfit group but we've been friends now for over 2 years." he pauses and sighs, "I hope you guys get along."
"If they care for you then I have no concerns that we'll get along swimmingly."
"They care way too much actually." Steve laughs, wincing again, "we're all pretty over the top for each other."
"Over the top how?"
Steve's quiet for a moment before sighing, "hard to explain."
"A.k.a. you don't want to explain."
Bucky raises an eyebrow at her willingness to call Steve out on his crap.
"Yeah, I really don't." Steve huffs, then smiles, "I can't wait for you to meet them."
"I can't either."
As if that's their cue, they slink off behind the counter, exit out the back side door to the alley and start walking around to the front.
"Thoughts?" Clint asks.
"I like her." Tony says easily. "I don't, however, like the fact that Steve is still keeping things from us."
"If you mention that we know, I'll punch you." Natasha says sharply, "Steve would be so mad that we listened in. So you keep your trap shut."
"We're mad at him for keeping things under wraps and then we turn around and do the same thing. Interesting." Clint says flatly as they turn onto the street.
"Clint, I swear—"
"I know, I know. Lips are sealed, yadda yadda."
—
Tony watches Steve's head pop up at the sound of the bell. His eyes land on Tony and they get wide in surprise.
"What are you doing here?" He asks, panic flashing across his face.
Tony raises an eyebrow at him, "why, you don't want me here? What the hell happened to your face?"
Steve's throat bobs and his eyes tighten, "no I, uh, of course I want you here, just didn't expect you."
"Well Steve, when will you learn to expect the unexpected with me?"
Steve just nods, and he turns to the girl, who is studying him. "I know you from somewhere."
"Name's Tony."
She extends a hand, "Peggy Carter."
He shakes it and points to the rest. "This is Clint, Natasha, and Bucky."
They each shake her hand and sit down. It's awkward for a moment of quiet until Peggy looks at Steve and smiles, "you haven't told them what happened to your face."
He scrunches his nose at her, then turns to the group. "It was nothing. I promise. Just a mistake, a scuffle."
Bucky scoffs, "you've never used the word scuffle in your life."
"Well, I am today." Steve says with a breathy laugh, "so this is Peggy, I've already warned her you'd have a thousand questions, so—" he gestures for them and Tony looks to the girl who sits there calmly, completely at ease at Steve's side.
"Yes, I'm quite the capable interrogatee, so whenever you'd like."
And they do.
"Where were you born?"
"England. Hampstead, but lived in London mostly."
"When did you move to the US?"
"I was 13."
"Why?"
"My father's job."
It's mundane questions like that until Tony decides to take it up a notch, "so, Peggy, what is it about Steve that you like?"
"Tony!" Steve admonishes leaning forward and wincing in pain, "stop—"
But Peggy holds up her hand, eyeing Steve with amusement. "Steve, if you think I'm unable or unwilling to answer the question then you're mistaken."
Steve just glares at Tony and sits back in a huff. But Peggy looks at Tony with a sharp and intense stare, "I saw Steve months ago in Dr. Erskine's office. I thought him to be most handsome but didn't have a chance to speak to him. Later we bumped into one another in the hallway and I decided to ask him out. He seemed as surprised as you all do right now which I find displeasing as it implies something I find distasteful. After we talked that Tuesday and the Thursday after that, I knew Steve was someone I wanted in my life. As you all seem to agree."
Tony doesn't look away from her challenging stare and he clears his throat. "Okay, sounds good to me."
She looks at Steve who smiles at her in a disbelieving way, and she laughs, "when will you believe me, huh?"
He chuckles, "I'm trying! It's all still very new." She grabs his hand and holds it in her own.
"Any other questions?"
Bucky looks at her, "how old are you?"
"17."
"So you're a Junior like Steve?"
Peggy turns towards Steve, "you're a junior?"
He looks at her with his brows pulled down, "yeah… you didn't know that?"
She laughs, "I could have sworn we were in the same grade." She turns back to Bucky, "I'm a senior actually."
Tony looks at Steve with a sly grin, "dating a senior, that's pretty cool."
Steve rolls his eyes and looks to Peggy, "don't mind dating a younger guy?"
"When's your birthday?"
"July."
"Mine's in April, so I suppose I am older but only by mere months. I think I can manage."
Clint's uncle comes over and takes their orders and when he leaves, Tony feels like they're at a tipping point, either she fits in with the group, or she doesn't, he's just not sure which it will be. He feels like he needs to know what she knows to ensure her intentions are good.
"So." Tony starts, "you recognize me?"
She glances at him and studies his face, "I feel like I do, should I recognize you?"
"Most do."
"Specific." She says with an amused eyebrow raise.
"What kind of phone do you have?"
She reaches into her pocket and pulls out a Stark phone, the model before last, she's about to hand it over when her hand freezes, and she glances up at him, "Stark. Tony Stark." She blinks at him and then frowns, turning towards Steve, "your phone is a Stark phone. Isn't it." He winces and nods. She briefly pinches the bridge of her nose and then rolls her eyes at Steve, "you're something else you know that?"
He shrugs his shoulders and Tony has to admit relief at the genuine surprise on her face. She hadn't known who he was until just then, which means she didn't know Steve and him were friends. She holds out her phone for him to grab and he waves it off.
"Nah," he says, "just asked cuz it usually helps jog people's memories."
She shakes her head and tucks her phone back into her pocket. "So, how did you guys all become friends?"
"Well." Natasha starts, speaking for the first time, "it started this one summer when we were all assigned the same group—"
She talks for a bit, and Tony's thrown back in time to when Steve was still a mystery.
"—then, before he even knew who I was, he stood up to this kid named Rumlow and defended the dance class, almost got pummeled right there—"
"Nat," Steve grouses, "she doesn't need every detail!"
"I absolutely do." Peggy corrects, tapping his nose, "now hush."
Natasha continues and it hits Tony just how much of that summer revolved around Steve. As the story starts to veer towards the softball game, he senses Natasha's shift in tone, and she starts being unsure how or what to say.
"Hey Nat." Steve says softly, "I think that's it for today."
Peggy looks between them curiously, "there's something in this story I'm not going to like, isn't there?" It's a frigid type of silence and Peggy doesn't miss it. "I'm assuming I'll find out eventually?"
"If you're planning on sleeping with him then yes." Tony says before he can stop himself.
"Tony!" And Steve's voice is angry and hurt, "what the hell!"
He grimaces, rubbing at his eyes to get the images of Steve's bloody and carved back out of his mind, "sorry."
Peggy's smart, but she doesn't know and therefore can't even begin to guess the horrors, so she tilts her head at Steve and her eyes soften, "if you think I care about your abili—"
Steve turns beet red and Tony winces in embarrassment for him, "no," Tony cuts her off, "it's not like that at all, I'm sorry, I shouldn't have said it like that, it's got nothing to do with that."
"Tony." Clint says in annoyance, "you're losing the audience."
He sighs, "there's just a lot to the story. So, I'm sure you'll be filled in eventually."
Peggy's eyes trail over each one and then land on Steve. "How can you, so terrible at lying, be keeping so many secrets?" She turns to the four of them and her eyes are bright, concerned, and slightly amused, "he was mugged today, because of the phone I assume you gave him. And I wouldn't betray his choice in privacy if I wasn't aware that you already know this from your previous sleuthing."
Steve sits up straight, "Peggy!" But she doesn't back down or take her eyes off the four of them, and Steve turns, looking at them curiously. When they don't react to the story he shakes his head.
"Wait, what previous sleuthing?"
"Your friends have been hiding behind the counter since I assume before even my arrival."
They all gape at one another, and Steve stares in shock, "you what!"
"We wanted to make sure—" Bucky starts.
"Steve, you know why we do this crap—" Clint huffs.
And Natasha is eyeing Peggy with a speculative stare, "how did you know?"
"Other than the fact that I felt like I had eyes on me, I saw you when I asked for the ice."
Tony huffs out a laugh, "busted."
"This level of overprotectiveness is endearing and concerning because it informs me there are gaps in my knowledge and I don't like that."
Steve grimaces, "if I promise to tell you, can I do it another time?"
She gently runs the back of her hand against his cheek, so affectionate it almost makes Tony want to look away. "Okay, I'll agree to that, on one condition."
"Which is?"
"They get to be there when you tell me." She points to them four.
Steve blanches, "what? Why!"
She laughs, "you've already proven I can't trust you to include the details I'm sure I'll need for context."
And Tony has to give her kudos because she's already caught on to the convenient way Steve manages to downplay everything about himself.
"Fine." Steve growls, leaning his head back and grabbing the bag of ice. "You guys are the worst."
"Hmm, so says you." She says, not bothered by his annoyance in the least. "You've heard about me, and I've heard a bit about you, but I haven't heard much about what you all think of Steve."
And it's his groan that breaks the tension and Clint leans forward, "oh, let us just tell you—"
—
Bucky looks over at Steve, expecting to see him looking annoyed or happy or any of the other emotions he's expressed during their long and detailed descriptions of him, only to see Steve's eyes tight and muscles in his throat taught.
Natasha's regaling the group about the time Steve managed to surprise all the kids and Sam with home baked muffins on their first day of school this year, waking up extra early to make them. Peggy's eyes are bright with mirth and she looks over at Steve to smile at him, only to notice the same thing Bucky does.
"Steve?" She asks, "are you alright?"
Instead of answering, he starts to pull in a deep breath, only for it to sound wheezy and cause him to fold over in pain.
"Steve!" They all shout, hands reaching towards his shoulders.
He shakes his head and pushes their hands away and then straightens, his face pale, "I think…" he says in a whisper, "I think that—" he doesn't look at them in the eye, "I thought it might have just been my joints or bones being stiff, you know how I get, but—" he tries to suck in another breath and can't, "I may have a broken rib, or two."
Chaos erupts as they exclaim and shout questions at him.
"Have you been in pain this whole time!?" Bucky snarls, panic in his tone.
"I think so?" Steve says, his eyes glazing and his voice a bit dazed, "I usually am all the time anyways."
And it's an admittance so far out of the norm that the four of them immediately know something is wrong.
"Steve, what happened?"
"Guys." Steve says in a hoarse whisper, labored breathing and blinking too slowly, "mugged and kicked."
"And you didn't think to mention this!" Peggy snaps in a tone so furious that it makes all of them blink in surprise, "you said bruises not broken bones!"
He winces and shifts, trying to straighten, "I didn't know, I didn't think it was this ba—" he sucks in a sharp stuttering breath and looks at Tony, "call—"
He starts to lean forward and before Bucky realizes what's happening, he passes out, his head hitting the table.
—-
Clint watches as Steve goes limp, head slamming too hard against the table. Tony has his phone out in seconds, "Sam? — Yeah it's Tony, meet us at the hospital— No, I'm in Brooklyn, —- Yes, Steve— don't know— Brooklyn Med—- Okay, okay, see you. There." He's hanging up and dialing another number, "Dad? Brooklyn Med— yes I'm here in town— I thou— dad— DAD—- Steve is passed out—- Brooklyn Med like I''ve been trying—- fine!" He hangs up and they've already hauled Steve out of the booth and laid him flat on the floor. Natasha hangs up the 9-1-1 call she'd just been on and they kneel around him, fidgeting and worried but apparently too calm as Peggy looks at each of them.
"Why do I get the distinct feeling this is not your first time waiting for an ambulance for him?"
"Second." Bucky, Tony, and Clint.
"Fourth." Natasha adds quietly.
Peggy's eyes go wide but she doesn't bolt or do anything dramatic. She sinks to her knees and gently lifts Steve's head onto her lap. "Something I must get used to then." She says softly, stroking Steve's hair and looking at him with concern etched across her expression. She reaches down, gently pulling up his shirt on the side he'd been favoring. Clint's about to protest when the violently black and purple bruising appears. Her fingers touch the area and liquid moves underneath the skin.
"I'm going to kill them." Tony says so calmly that Clint believes him for a second. "I'm tracing Steve's phone. They're in for one hell of a surprise. I'm calling Matt too. Assault charges up the wazoo."
"Who is Matt?" Peggy asks innocently.
"Steve's lawyer." Bucky responds, eyes on the bruise.
She blinks at them, "and why does Steve need his own lawyer?"
That brings them back to reality.
"It's part of that long story." Clint says with a grimace, "the one you wanted us there for."
Her lips purse and she's gently stroking his unbruised cheekbone with her thumb. "It's going to make me very angry isn't it."
"Like you wouldn't believe." Bucky says darkly.
—-
Steve comes too and feels very heavy. A feeling he's becoming familiar with.
Heavy medication.
He sighs and then sighs again.
And again.
"You okay there, bud?"
It takes effort but he rolls his head to the right to find Sam sitting there, watching him.
"Sucks." Is all Steve can manage to get out.
"The internal bleeding you had? The broken ribs? Or the getting mugged in general?"
Steve swallows thickly, his throat dry. "Life."
Sam blinks, and takes a deep breath, "Steve, in a few day's you'll be okay, I promise."
Steve looks at him and his eyebrows furrow. "Forgot."
"You forgot what?"
"Nooo." He draws out, the drugs making him loopy and annoyed, "You forgot."
"What did I forget, Steve?"
"—'M never okay."
"As in… you're… unhappy?" Sam asks, trepidation in his voice.
"No." Steve groans, limply tossing his arms and barely moving them, "sick. Sick. Hurt. Sick."
"Oh." Sam says softly, a bit of relief, "I know. We gotta break this cycle."
"Here?"
"Hmm?"
"Here?"
"Yes, I'm here."
"Nooooo." Steve drags out again, "them."
Sam chuckles, "of course they're here." Steve sighs heavily, making Sam chuckle. "You want me to send them in?" Steve just shrugs and Sam laughs again, "I'll take that as a yes."
—
Tony leads the way into the room where Steve lays, eyes glazed from the medication he's on.
"Hey Steve, how you feeling?"
"Hazy."
"Yeah, that level of morphine will do it to you."
Peggy stands beside the bed and grabs Steve's hand, "you gave us quite the scare."
Steve looks at her, brows furrowing, "you're not usually here—" he says groggily, "how'd you get here?"
She chuckles, "magic."
"Hmm." He says, accepting this answer as truth, "magic."
"Are you alright with me being here?"
He blinks at her and even through the medication his eyes get somber. "Told you."
Her face gets slightly pinched, as if she knows the answer to the question she's about to ask. "Told me what?"
He gestures weakly to himself, "time bomb."
Tony's unsure of the word choice. He hasn't heard Steve use it before and it makes his jaw clench to hear him refer to himself that way.
"Hmm." Peggy responds, unphased except the way her eyes are held tightly, "what an adventure then."
It's not exactly the most eloquent response, but Tony will give it to her that she's handling meeting them and Steve being hospitalized all in one day very well.
Steve suddenly looks panicked, "help," he says weakly before leaning over the side of his bed and looking queasy.
Sam's there in an instant, trash can in hand and laying a comforting hand on Steve's back as he vomits violently into the trash can. He's still dazed when he sits up, wiping at his face and smearing blood and bile along his chin and jaw.
"Clint. Get a nurse." Sam says, his voice calm but his eyes tight. Clint's gone and the room is quiet. Tony watches Peggy's reaction, which is shocked at first, then her eyes narrow and she takes a deep breath. She walks to the small adjoining bathroom and reappears a moment later with wet paper towels. She gingerly wipes his face, cleaning it as best she can. He slowly starts to push her hands away, "no." He says in a voice that's sounds exhausted, "don't."
"Why not?" She asks calmly, not stopping.
"I can do it myself." And he grabs at the paper towels, but without his glasses on, he misses by a few inches and she laughs softly.
"I beg to differ."
The nurse appears and takes over, ensuring to remove the trash can and make sure he's cleaned up and sanitary.
Tony watches Peggy make a call, and she seems at ease at first before looking frustrated on the phone. He pretends to be fiddling with his phone but instead he watches her argue with someone and then hang up.
She walks back in to find Steve asleep.
The four of them have gravitated to their usual positions when Steve is in a hospital. Leaving Peggy to sit on the side of Steve's bed and gently run her fingers through his hair.
It's quiet for awhile and she looks up at them, "should I just know the story now?"
Sam looks up, "story?"
She nods, "yes, I've been informed there's quite the story about Steve that I don't know. And Tony made a dubious comment and now I'll admit I'm partly curious but mostly very concerned." She glances around. "I'll wait if you think he'd prefer to be awake when it's told."
Tony glances up at her and sighs, "it's a really long and very unpleasant story."
The calculating look in her eye matches the head tilt, "and do you think I should date and love Steve without knowing it?"
She's not asking sarcastically or with a hidden intention. She's truly wondering if it's possible to know and love Steve without knowing his full history.
History in which she could google. But he's glad she hasn't.
"Probably not." Clint admits, eyes on the setting sun through the glass window.
The way her hand grazes against his scalp makes him sigh and shift, pushing into her hand and a soft smile ghosting his lips.
The tender and almost adoring way she looks at him erases all doubt from Tony's mind that all the crap Steve had tried to sell him the night before was actually true.
This girl is the real deal.
And wasn't it just like Steve to find her in one go.
He looks up and notices Bucky and Natasha's faces flitting through the same emotions he is.
"Well." Clint says, "it all started the day I watched this jackass named Brock Rumlow shove Steve against a door frame back the first day of that summer school program."
—-
Peggy listens intently as Clint describes the rise in Brock Rumlow's hatred for Steve. The other's add details as needed, or describe times when it was just Steve and them. Sam sits quietly, listening to their first hand accounts that he's never actually heard before.
"So then we found out he was living at the children's home—" Bucky says.
"With Sam." Peggy states, nodding as if she'd heard this.
They blink at her. "No." Bucky says slowly, "Sam wasn't there yet."
She tilts her head, "oh…"
"Mrs. Schmidt." Tony says the name like it's a curse.
"And who was Mrs. Schmidt?" Peggy asks, eyes moving from each one of them.
And they tell her. Starting with when they found out and the bruises around his neck. Her fingers ghost over the area, the bruises having been gone for years. But when they talk about the burn, she slowly moves the hospital gown that is covering it and her jaw gets tight as she sees the scar under his elbow. Her fingers gently trace it and she closes her eyes as they continue. Describing the horrible treatment of him at her hands, the scar along his sternum that none of them know the origin of. The little burns and scars. The way she starved them as punishment, and used Steve the other kids as a way to threaten Steve to behave.
When they get to the part of him being locked in the basement, she pulls her legs up, careful not to jostle him, and sits beside him, positioning herself to be against his side and lean on his shoulder.
Tony ignores the tear tracks that go down her cheeks as they describe the way he lost his hearing and how they discovered he was colorblind and needed better glasses. They come to the part where they finally are able to catch her and how Sam took over the house and she breathes a sigh of relief.
"How horrid, I understand why he probably hasn't told me yet, that would be a lot for him to relive if he did—"
"Peggy." Tony says cutting her off. "That's not the worst part."
She looks at him eyebrows pulling down in the middle, "you're telling me he was abused for over 5 years and that wasn't the worst part?"
Bucky takes over now. Talking about how Steve had told him to meet him at school, because he had a surprise. And then how Steve never arrived and they started to panic.
Her eyes start with concern and then widen as each step happens.
Them not being able to find Steve for hours, then a day, then the confrontation with Rumlow and then it being two days. Peggy's eyes are nailed on Bucky as he describes the confrontation with the brothers. Clint cuts in, describing his past relationship with the brothers and how that fueled their hatred and willingness to kidnap Steve.
When they tell her that they were told he was dead in the dumpster, she literally gasps and shoves her head down against the crook of Steve's neck. But they don't stop talking. They describe the Monday they found him, and what state he was in. They even tell her about the injuries, his hip and arm, and then Natasha takes a deep breath and looks at Steve. "You know how Tony made that comment about you two you know…"
Peggy nods and Sam is frowning, but Natasha continues. "He said that, because we didn't know it right away, but the brothers had… they'd carved words into Steve's back. And it left large scars… So Tony was just saying that if you guys ever did get to that point you'd probably wanna know before hand. It would be quite the shock."
"What are the words?"
Bucky says them slowly, voice hoarse. "Traitor. Snitch."
Her eyes close and she leans against him again, holding him close and ghosting her fingers over his face and hair and chest. Anything to confirm that he's here and safe.
"That's where the lawyer came in. When the brothers were caught, we used a lawyer to ensure they got put away. Which they did."
"And Rumlow?" Peggy asks, her voice murderously low.
"Nope." Bucky seethes. "That rat bastard got away scott free."
She narrows her eyes. "I'll have to see about that."
And the tone of her voice left no room for argument.
—-
Once the story is fully finished, and Peggy is completely up to date she leans back, twining Steve's fingers in hers as he continues to sleep through his drug induced haze. "I'll admit, I had no idea the depth of his story, but I can honestly say I would personally like to find this Brock Rumlow and have a polite discussion with him about manners and the proper way to treat human beings."
"Get in line." Bucky says sharply, "if I ever see him again—"
"Alright," Sam cuts them off, "now that the full story is known, I think it's time for you guys to go home. Get some rest. Steve will be released in a day or so."
They start to protest but he waves him off, "No arguments. Steve is not going to want to wake up to all your nonsense. So go home."
They grumble and take their sweet time, but eventually they leave and the room falls quiet.
—-
Yelena, Wanda, Pietro, and Peter sit around waiting for them to come back from the hospital.
Natasha and Bukcy inform them that Steve is okay and he'll be home soon. But she can see the concern on their faces.
"He's been in the hospital so much." Yelena says, "why does everything happen to him?"
Peter, who's starting to hit his growth spurt, pushes his glasses further up the bridge of his nose, "what if this happens again and no one is around?"
Natasha tries to allay their fears, but she doesn't think she does a very good job when the same concern is laced through her own thoughts.
—
The pain is gone when Steve wakes up. He yawns and feels his lungs give a tiny twinge but nothing major. He turns and is surprised to find the room completely empty. A note catches his eye and he reaches for it and his glasses.
Hey Steve,
I hope Howard has gotten there before you wake up so you're not alone, but just know someone will be there shortly! I had to run back to the house for Sarah to go to work, but I'll be back as soon as possible. The gang filled me in on what happened and I'm so sorry. We'll get you a new phone no problem. Not that you're worried about that, I know you're not.
Anyways, rest as much as you can. Doc said you could probably be back in school on Wednesday or Thursday. You cracked two ribs and had a lot of internal swelling, but it should start to clear up pretty quick they said.
They'll probably tell all this to you before they discharge you, and hopefully I'm there anyways.
Love you,
Sam
Steve leans back, pulling off his glasses again and sighing. If it wasn't his heart, it was his autoimmune disorder. If it wasn't that, then it was his immune system being weak, and if it wasn't that it was getting beat up.
He swears Sam has probably been in the hospital more times in the last two years because of Steve than he has in the rest of his lifetime.
"Steve?"
He looks up to see Mrs. Stark.
"Hi." He says, his voice a bit dry.
"Sorry, Howard got called to an emergency but we wanted to make sure someone was here, I hope you don't mind me."
He smiles and shakes his head, "oh, no, of course I don't mind at all. Thanks for coming. But if you're busy—"
She cuts him off with a wave, "I'm really not. And I wanted to take you up on your offer."
"Offer?"
"Uh Hmm. About talking about my sister."
Steve feels his heart clench and he nods, eagerly, "yeah," he says in a rasp, "of course, I wanna know about her."
Mrs. Stark smiles and leans her elbows on the bed, "well, first off, she was as stubborn as you—"
Steve laughs and settles in as she starts to talk about her sister and their childhood.
—-
She eventually asks about his ma and he starts telling her all about their small and simple life. How she took care of him, and loved him, and how they did everything together.
There's a pause when he can't remember a detail and he feels worried, is he already forgetting her? It has been over 8 years now.. And with a quiet voice he says, "I've almost lived as long without her as I lived with her."
"It's a terrible moment." Mrs. Stark says knowingly. "I remember that year. It's not pleasant, but it does get better."
He nods and she starts asking him questions about his school and his art.
—-
He hears the door open and looks up to see Peggy enter. He smiles at her and she returns it, but there's something about it that doens't reach her eyes.
"Are you okay?" He asks, concern coloring his tone.
"I'm not actually." She says crisply. "I asked them to tell me the whole story and they did. Yesterday."
"Whole—" he starts, then his brain catches up and he feels the color drain from his face, "oh.."
"Mmm." She clears her throat and steps closer, eyeing the room that is empty besides them. "I'll be honest, I did not expect what I heard and I'll be honest that I hated every second of it."
Steve winces, "I'm sorry—"
She covers his mouth with her hand. "No. No. That's not what I'm asking for. I just wanted to come and ensure that you were aware that I'd been told, but also…" She gently places her hands on the sides of his face, avoiding the healing bruise, "what you went through is so horrible that I can't even begin to imagine. And I'll not pretend to have experienced anything even remotely similar. However, I cannot express to you the amazement I have, that even after all that, after everything, I find your spirit and general personality to be so enveloping and that I intend to spend every available moment discovering how you ended up so wonderful."
He blinks, and looks into her intense gaze, "um, what?"
She laughs softly and leans forward, touching her nose to his before dipping lower and kissing him, soft pressure against his lips and causing his heart monitor to chirp.
She pulls back and looks at the monitor, a smile on her lips that he wants to remember to draw.
"Thank you." He says, his brain finally catching up, "I'm sorry you had to hear all that. I should be mad that they told you without me, but honestly.. I'm relieved."
She nods and kisses him again. Then her hands trail towards the collar of his hospital gown and back to where the tie is at the base of his neck. "May I?" She asks.
"You sure you wanna see them?" He responds softly, "they're not pretty."
She doesn't respond verbally, just unties the string and pushes the sides of the gown down off his shoulders. He waits, wondering what her reaction will be.
At first he feels her light touch as her fingertips trace along them. He's leaning forward, allowing her acces to them. Her hands ghost down the side where the small word is, and her fingers are warm against his cool skin.
He's about to ask her thoughts when she surprises him. Soft pressure against his back has the nerves in his stomach firing. Her lips press against his scars, soft and gentle kisses against the deformed tissue and he feels his chest get tight with emotion.
"Peggy—" he says in a hoarse whisper. But she kisses down along his side and then kisses the back of his neck, before gently running her fingernails in gentle circles against the skin on his back. He knows she can see every rib, every marking, scar, burn but she doesn't seem to care, never pauses her ministrations. He can't even find the words to express the gratitude of her not only nonchalance at his scars but her seeming acceptance of them.
"The way you fought to survive against those brothers, against all this, and now, against your diagnosis. I'll never meet another guy like you. That's why I won't be going anywhere. Every cracked rib and hospital visit, I'll be there."
"Don't—" he says with a grimace, slowly pushing his hospital gown back over his shoulders, "don't, I already hate how often Sam has to be here with me. I don't wnat you saddled with that too."
She helps tie it back together and he leans against his pillows. She studies him and her lips purse before she speaks, "why? Because eventually our goodwill will run out and you believe we'll get tired of taking care of you? Because you think I have an exasperation limit to you being sick or in the hospital?" He doesn't respond and she leans forward with her eyebrow raise. "Simply because that witch of a woman who was in charge of you didn't care, does not mean that's how the rest of us operate. Would you be saying this nonsense to your mum?"
"I—"
"I have no intention of proving your doubtful expectations right. You'll just have to believe me when I stick around forever. Now, what terrible hospital food do you want me to bring you?"
—-
He's released a day later and goes to school the next day where Scott spends the day following him around and asking what happened. He eventually gives him the short version which makes the guy ease up a bit, but Steve chuckles at the concern on his face every time Steve has to reach for something.
A new phone is in his hand by Thursday when he heads to art class, but he keeps it in his pockets.
—-
Tony tracks Steve's phone, finds the culprits and sends his dad the info. He's back at MIT and has a bit of makeup work to do before finals, but he couldn't sleep without ensuring those bastards were caught.
—
Clint stares at the pack of cigarettes in his hand. He'd forgotten about this pack. The one he'd stashed years ago and now that he's starting to pack up his room, he's discovered it.
There's a fire of temptation. The feeling he knows he'd get at the first puff. The calming sensation of holding it between two fingers and sitting on the fire escape.
But he takes a deep breath, walks out to the fire escape and looks down, "hey Ms. Dawes, you there?"
She pokes her head out her window and he smiles, she runs warm just like him, having her window open on a cold December night like this. "Got a present for you." He drops the pack down and it lands with a smack on her tiny fire escape. She looks at it and then looks back at him.
"Thought you quit years ago?"
"I did. But just found that one. Thought you might want to do the honors?"
She grabs the pack and rips it open, crumbling the cigarettes easily.
"Thanks." He says, "that's my going away present."
She blinks up at him, "you're what?"
"Moving out by New Years."
Her eyes tell him she understands more than he says, but she doesn't comment. "You'll visit?"
"Course."
"Good." She huffs, then squints up at him, "you're a good kid. Always knew you were. Glad you're sticking to the course."
He looks out to the narrow alley and down to the street, "me too." He says softer than he means. "Me too."
—
T: Hey, we're still gunna do Christmas Eve together right?"
B: Yeah, my mom said it was fine.
C: I'll be there
S: yeah, Nat and I can be there, Sam says its fine.
T: Steve bring Peggy.
S: You sure? She's fine leaving it to just us.
C: Nah, bring her. She's cool. She calls you out on your crap. I like that
Steve rolls his eyes as every 'likes' Clint's text message
S: Are you guys bringing anyone?
B: My date is built into the group
N: Hush.
B: o.o
C: I actually met this girl, she's a new hire at work. Her name's Laura. I don't think she's ready for Christmas Eve with you hooligans yet, but maybe soon.
T: Pepper can't make it to NYC this Christmas, but I swear you guys gotta come visit MIT and I'll introduce you to everyone, including Rhodey.
Steve smiles as the others continue to talk about plans. But he texts Peggy.
S: You wanna spend Christmas Eve with me and the others? If you don't already have family plans of course.
P: I'll have to check with my mum, but I should be able to, it sounds fun.
Steve lays back in his bed, sinking further into sleep.
—
Howard flings a wrench across the room and it lands with a crash against the wall, sliding down onto a workbench and rattling the tools there.
He was so close. He could almost taste it. But something isn't right. He's not sure what. He stares at the weird looking metal pod and sighs. He'd gotten a call from Steve's doctor after they'd discharged him from his cracked ribs.
His platelet count is deteriorating rapidly under the medication. His body is no longer responding well to the heart medication.
And that had sent Howard spiraling back down to the lab. So here he was, trying to build a machine to help fabricate health and vitality into Steve's body.
But something's missing, and he hasn't figured out what.
And according to the doctor, Steve's running out of time.