Of Love and Lines (MCUxReader)

Forty Five

Steve's room was just as it should be when you woke. Meaning it had lost its purple glow. Pushing Alpine aside, you went to his closet first to change out of the mangled mess of the shirt you'd been forced to wear for the past who knows how long, days likely. Eyeing the drawer in his dresser that housed a few of your outfits, your hand instead reached for one of his shirts. You didn't even want to consider what that meant as you also stole a pair of his sweats and rolled them up at your hips.

Moving to the bathroom, you figured you had another bloody mess to clean up but to your surprise, there was nothing. Guess the whole full body reset thing had one advantage.

Not fucking worth it though.

Mother Nature could go fuck herself.

Your body felt heavy as you washed your hands, and you moved slowly from the room to search out the two super soldiers.

They weren't in the suite beyond, which sent shivers of panic down your spine.

Fuck.

What else happened? What else did you miss in your near comatose slumber?

If it was as bad as the images painting your mind, Steve had likely taken Bucky to medical. In your panic to get to them, you didn't even consider that you were sprinting towards the one place in this damn compound that you yourself avoided. Your legs came to a skidding halt in the stairwell when you overhead yelling coming from the living room. Palming your racing heart, you inched closer to listen in.

"And you just thought you wouldn't tell me?!" Peter's raised voice carried into the stairwell.

Not wanting to disturb whatever the hell was going on, you ghosted into the other realm like Loke had taught you and moved into the space to get a better look at the situation. Steve and Bucky were standing side by side, facing off with Peter in front of the couches where the rest of the team lounged, also observing. Well, minus Clint and Thor.

Bucky looked better. He stood straight next to Steve, his hands on his hips as he clenched his jaw. You couldn't see his wounds thanks to the sweatshirt he wore, but if it really had been another few days, you were guessing they were healed. His hair was clean now and his face had lost some of the exhaustion that had been pulling at his features.

"We're telling you now." Steve spoke sternly.

"Jesus fucking Christ! Why does no one tell me things?! She's my best friend! I deserve to know when she fucking dies!"

"Language." Steve barked.

You laughed a ghosty laugh.

Spotting a bag of Reese's on the counter you moved to grab one. Solidifying, you sat on the island, letting your legs swing as you snacked through the nausea present in your stomach.

No one noticed you, too engrossed in Peter's outburst.

Well, except for Mischief. You saw him give you a glance out of the corner of his eyes, but he said nothing.

"It's been five fucking days. Not one of you could find the time to mention it? 'Hey, Peter. How's your trip going? Oh, by the way Penelope died.' Like it's that fucking hard."

Five days? Fuck. Guess you were asleep longer than you'd thought. Then again, your powers were taking longer than normal to recuperate. No doubt thanks to the meds Bruce had given you.

You almost laughed again when Steve's jaw ticked. But you managed to stay quiet, wanting to see this play out.

"You needed to concentrate on the mission. It was your first official one in the initiative, Romanoff and Maximoff were both informed should the need arise to tell you. It didn't and your mission was a success, you got the intel we needed." Metal Head explained.