In Your Eyes // Steve Rogers

16

For Maria's sake and my own, Bruce offered to explain in the Lab, so we could get medical treatment.

I took one step to follow and gasped with pain, clutching on to Steve. He steadied me with a single hand.

"I'm fine, I'm fine" I insisted, "Just a little pain in my foot."

I had declined his help for a single time and already, he was finished with my act of refusal. He scoffed, tightening his arm around me, guiding me to take a step.

I stayed put, not finished with my refusal. I wasn't purposely being difficult, as Steve originally thought. I had reasons for my independence, great ones, which he hadn't focused on.

"Remember when I said I didn't want to join the team because you were going to be distracted by me? This is exactly what I was talking about," I said, my annoyance clear by my tone of voice.

"You're injured, to the point where you can't walk," he argued, "Do you expect me to ignore an injured team member?"

I admitted, in my head only, that he found a great counter-argument. I hadn't expected him to shoot down my lesson in such little time. The spark of annoyance continued to bring out the determination in myself, set on proving I was capable of independence. I released my hold on Steve, balancing on my right foot.

"As the great Gloria Gaynor once sang, 'I will survive.'"

The reference went straight over his head. The words did not. Steve shook his head. "Clara, just let me help you to the Lab and we'll let Bruce take a look at your--"

"I will get there on my own," I said.

I took a step, without looking, and tripped over a discarded pillow that Tony had thrown earlier. Within distance, Steve lunged for me.

"You sure about that?" he wondered, the raised eyebrow and slight smirk on his face enough to tell me he was more than thrilled with winning our argument.

Defeated, I muttered, "Just help me along, boy scout."

Presumably reserved for the residing two members, a section of the lab bench was cleared for Steve and I. He took my hips and set me on the edge of the metal table. Exchanging a nod to ensure I was alright, Steve then crossed his arms over his chest and rested his back against the bench.

Bruce helped me gather medical supplies to get the glass out of my foot. I assured him I could do it myself. Steve listened to the conversation, but his eyes stayed trained on myself, ensuring I wasn't further damaging my foot as I pried glass from it with a tweezer.

"He used the internet as an escape," announced Tony.

"And he's been through everything: files, surveillance," added Natasha. "Probably knows more about us than we do about each other..."

Rhodey cleared his throat, taking the attention. "What if he decides to access something a little more exciting?"

"Like nuclear codes?" wondered Maria.

"We need to make some calls, assuming we still can," said Rhodey cautiously.

"Are we sure that we should be the ones doing that?" I cut in, glancing at everyone. "He said he wanted us dead."

"He didn't say dead, he said extinct," corrected Steve. He looked to Tony. "And he also said he killed somebody."

Maria tilted her head curiously. "Nobody else was in the building."

Tony, rightfully staying silent to avoid anyone lashing out at him, was forced to get involved in the conversation, having the answer. He stepped from the shadows, coming to the middle. His fingers danced across his screen, then he held his phone up, transporting the hologram into the air.