Even confined to his hospital bed, Issac was never lonely. In fact, he had plenty of visitors. Everett Ross and Secretary Ross both came to see him as soon as they heard that his condition had stabilized, both practically interrogating him about Sharon, Steve, and Bucky, the three who had violated the accords who they hadn't managed to catch yet. Well Steve violated the accords, Sharon and Bucky were both considered fugitives from the law. At least Everett was more friendly about it, even playful, being a man who actually enjoyed his job despite how much of a headache it could be. Secretary Ross was just as much of an asshole as ever, not really caring about Issac's condition, and even managing to anger him enough to have a nurse more or less kick him out. Words were said on both of their parts that he would rather not repeat.
Everyone else who fought on Steve's side were arrested and brought to the raft, a maximum security prison called the raft because it rested quite literally, in the middle of the ocean. It was like a modern day Alcatraz. He heard rumors that Clint and Scott were trying to negotiate a deal to go back to their families but remain under house arrest for however long the government saw fit.
Issac sighed slowly as he stared up at the blank ceiling, fingers lightly drumming against the material of his gown. They didn't need to restrain him to his bed, thankfully, but two heavily armed guards remained outside the door of his room, which he wasn't allowed to leave without supervision. The true extent of his injuries were a bit of a mystery, considering most of them came merely from an extreme overuse of his magic. Explaining that to doctors who barely believed in religion, let alone people being able to harness energy from the universe around them would have been futile, so they settled for blaming it on a collapsed lung, his broken collarbone, and just sheer exhaustion and malnutrition. The best part about all of this however was that he wasn't locked away in some uncomfortable cell in the middle of nowhere, and he even got the high quality pain medications that often made everything far more tolerable.
He wasn't sure how many days it had been since the airport incident. He was told that they kept him sedated for two days after inflating his lung, and because of the constant dosage of morphine, it was hard to keep track of time these days. He had been given a few books per his request to read while he was here, however unfortunately the morphine made it too hard to focus on the details while also trying to keep track of the words that continued to swim around the pages.
He sighed once again, carefully sitting up and sitting cross legged on the bed. He was bored, to say the least. He was almost tempted to press the call button just so he could have someone to talk to for a bit, but he decided against it. Although this wasn't a normal hospital, and therefore the staff here weren't nearly as busy as they would be somewhere else, he would still feel awful for bothering them. Having nothing better to do, he laid back down and pulled the blankets over his body, choosing to stare up at the ceiling once again. He figured it would be best to catch up on sleep now while he had the chance before they deemed him healthy enough to be locked away with the rest of the Avengers. He briefly thought about Steve before closing his eyes, forcing the thought away. He couldn't think about him right now, it would make everything too unbearable. He was still on the run, but all that meant was that they couldn't find him. It didn't mean he wasn't dead. He could be seriously injured somewhere, dying, or already dead, cold and buried deep somewhere in Siberia where they may never find his body. He didn't need that right now, he couldn't handle all of it on top of everything else.
Issac had dozed off a bit when the door opened, someone's hand on his arm startling him awake. The quick jolt caused a sharp pain to flare up in his collarbone as he turned to look at whoever came into his room, expecting his doctor or one of the nurses that had been assigned to him. His gaze met deep, worried blue eyes with a pinched crease between them, their owner's lips downturned into a deep frown. Issac blinked, aggressively rubbing his eyes before blinking a few times. If this was his brain making him see things, he would never forgive it. This is why you couldn't think about the people you loved while high on medical narcotics. He reached out, grabbing onto the person's arm just to make sure, letting out a shaky breath as he felt tears prickle the corners of his eyes.
"Steve?" He mumbled, barely above a whisper.
"Hey." Steve's shoulders slumped with relief as he took Issac's hand in his gently. He smiled a bit, but the crease between his brows still didn't go away. "Can you walk?"
Issac swung his legs over the side of the bed, glancing over at the door. Apparently he dozed off far longer than he realized, as the lights in the hallway were dim and the activity from the staff was practically nonexistent, meaning it was the middle of the night. He could see the unconscious bodies of the guards laying in the doorway, and even though his mind was still a bit fuzzy, he was coherent enough to realize what was happening. He pulled the IV drips out of his skin, slowly standing up to make sure his legs still worked. Steve kept a hand on his back and when they were certain he wouldn't fall over, they moved quickly.
"Sorry I took so long. You were a lot harder to find than the others." Steve mumbled, not once letting go of Issac's and as he led them through the narrow hallways and corridors of the military hospital, into one of the stairwells, and up to the helicopter where the quinjet was waiting for them. Sam grinned from his place in the pilot's seat when they climbed inside, shutting the large door before wasting practically no time in taking off and disappearing into the clouds.
"Well aren't you a sight for sore eyes." The male in the front called out, putting the jet on autopilot so he could properly greet the male.
Issac couldn't help but grin as he was pulled into a careful hug, returning it best he could with one arm wrapped in a sling and pulled close to his chest.
"I kind of lost track of time while I was in there. Just out of curiosity- how long has it been?"
"A little over three weeks." Steve answered, gently taking Issac's hand and slipping a familiar ring onto his finger. "I managed to grab this on the way to you." he smiled softly. Issac felt ashamed to admit that he was so out of it he hadn't even realized it was gone.
He let out a sigh of relief, pulling Steve into a tight hug. Now as his head began clearing up, he realized just how much he missed everyone, especially Steve. He forced himself not to think about his friends while he was confined to a hospital room for almost a month, knowing it would only make the experience worse than it already was. Now that he was finally out, it all came rushing back to him at once and he had to fight the urge to break down in front of the two men.
Once he had recovered and changed out of his hospital gown, he sat near the cockpit with Sam while Steve had taken over flying the jet. He waited until the morphine had completely left his system before bringing up the question.
"So what now?"
YOU ARE READING
Over The Edge. | Steve Rogers.
Fanfiction"if I told you about darkness inside me, would you still look at me like I'm the sun?" "always." "then you're an idiot, Steve." sequel to On The Edge.
