The Night We Met | Steve / Bucky

thirty-two - hold on

Natasha sat in the pilot seat of the quinjet. It was a rather small quinjet that Natasha managed to get her hands on through her KGB connections. Steve stood, almost pacing. Sam sat opposite Steve. The quinjet soared above the clouds, flying from the middle east to eastern Europe. The view between the clouds shifted from sandy dunes to green fields. Natasha and Sam both took moments to appreciate the change in scenery as they both knew it wouldn't be for long. 

Steve, however, now sporting a beard and longer hair from his time in the middle east, couldn't focus long enough to appreciate anything about the situation. He clutched at a beam above his head, gazing at the floor. Natasha noticed the silence from Steve. She nudged at Sam. Sam looked to Natasha and then to Steve, quickly feeling the stress radiate from his body. "Steve," He called. Steve snapped from his gaze and looked to Sam, "You good?"

Steve nodded, "Yeah." He spoke softly. "I just hope that she's okay."

"What exactly did Tony say?" Sam asked.

Steve sighed, "That she fled from her treatment and she's been drinking a lot."

"It's Katherine, Steve." Natasha spoke up from the front of the quinjet, "She'll be fine."

"Yeah." Steve murmured, hoping that Natasha was right. 

What felt like several hours but in reality was a lot shorter, the quinjet flew above the Emerald Isle. Natasha followed the co-ordinates that Tony had sent. Below, fields upon fields lay bare a part from the odd house or cabin. Natasha landed the quinjet in the field of the cabin. 

Natasha opened the back door of the quinjet, the ramp landing in the slightly overgrown grass. Steve walked down the ramp, hearing the footsteps of Sam and Natasha behind him. He quickly turned and held his hand out, "I'll go. Alone. 

"You don't know what we're walking into." Natasha spoke.

"She doesn't need to be ambushed." Steve responded. Natasha and Sam both nodded, at his response, agreeing with him and remaining in the quinjet. 

Steve walked down the ramp, his breath becoming heavy. He felt his palms become sweaty, his stomach churning. He walked across the field, walking past a half-empty whiskey bottle. Steve sighed, knowing that Tony was right - it was going to be bad. Tony's voice replayed over and over in the back of Steve's mind - a voice he never expected to hear from again. 

Steve stepped onto the porch, the wood creaking beneath his feet. Steve looked around, the porch looked like it had never been used. Steve knocked on the door. There was no answer. Steve knocked again, "Kat!" He called. He proceeded to knock harder, banging on the door. Steve placed his hand on the handle, pushing the door open. The smell of liquor stung his nostrils. He pushed the door open fully, the living room flooding with the light streaming through the front door. Glass bottles littered the floor, bottles of pills, smashed glass. "Kat!" Steve called again, stepping across the living room looking around for a sign of life. Steve's eyes wandered ahead to the kitchen. Among the empty bottles, Steve noticed two legs on the floor. "Kat!" Steve shouted, running through the cabin and into the kitchen. On the floor, an unconscious Katherine lay. She was white, scarily thin with foam emerging from her mouth. Steve dropped to his knees, checking for a pulse on Katherine's neck. "Nat! Sam!" Steve felt his heart ache within him. "No, no, no." His head was spinning with adrenaline. He looked to see a bottle of prescribed medication in Katherine's hand, only one or two left in the bottle. Steve began CPR on Katherine's chest. "C'mon. Stay with me, Kat." Steve felt a hard lump form in his throat, tears stinging his eyes, "C'mon, Kat!"

The running feet of Natasha and Sam soon echoed throughout the cabin, "Cap?" Sam called.

The pair immediately found Steve on the kitchen floor, leaning over a lifeless Katherine. "It looks like an overdose." Steve managed to say, trying not to let tears escape, "Stay with me, Kat." He breathed continuing CPR.