Captured // A Winter Soldier Story

chapter twenty two // on the edge

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"I try to forgive you, but I struggle 'cause I don't know how. We built it up so high, and now I'm falling...it's a long way down."
-Long Way Down by One Direction

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reyna's point of view

After the incredible fight Steve put up, it took only minutes for the three of us to finish taking Hydra out. Once we could finally breathe, we didn't hesitate to promptly rush over to Natasha, who was still laying unconscious in a pool of her own blood. I placed my finger to the inside of her wrist. There was a pulse, but it was weak, and terror shot through me as I realized we might lose her.

Steve radioed Fury and requested backup immediately. Barely a minute later, we heard the noise of helicopter blades piercing through the sound of rain, and a chopper landed fifty feet away from us in the middle of the street.

"I've got her!" Steve informed us, taking Natasha's limp form into his arms and hurrying carefully over to the helicopter. Bucky and I followed.

A medical crew helped get Natasha safely on board and immediately began administering anesthetics and inserting IVs. They examined her in hushed whispers that we couldn't quite make out over the sound of the helicopter blades, but their faces were grim, and my heart nearly beat out of my chest with nervousness. I just wanted to know if she would make it.

The trip to MedStar Washington Hospital Center took less than two minutes, but it felt like years had passed before we finally landed. I could barely see Nat's flaming hair through all of the machines she was tied to. They rushed her inside the second we touched down, and when we went to follow, a doctor stopped us and told us that we needed to wait in the lobby. We were too out of it to put up much of a fight, so we didn't argue- just simply stood and watched as they wheeled Nat away from us.

I clutched Bucky and Steve's hands, holding on to both of them for dear life. Steve was still breathing hard from his outburst a few minutes ago. His face was blank, and his eyes shone with fear and disbelief, unable to comprehend that Natasha might not make it. His heart denied what his eyes were seeing.

Bucky looked absolutely devastated. He knew he was the one who had caused Natasha's injury and was crumbling under the heavy guilt of it all. His palms were sweaty and his eyes were very, very far away.

I took control and guided both of them back to the waiting area. This time, I was the strong one, and they needed my help.

I pulled us over to a bench in the corner and we sat down, my arms wrapped around their huge, muscular shoulders. I hugged them to me as best I could. Steve wrapped his arm around my waist and leaned his head on my shoulder after a moment, but Bucky refused to move, instead choosing to glare at the ground. I knew he was acting like that because he was disgusted with himself and his actions, but seeing him so low still stung, even when I knew the reason behind it.

"Bucky," I coaxed, squeezing his shoulder. His eyes hesitantly flicked up to mine after a second.

"This was not your fault. I know you can't help but feel guilty, but distancing yourself from the people who love you will only make it worse," I said softly, looking at him with sad eyes. He clenched his jaw and I was worried I hadn't gotten through to him, but when his eyes flicked up, they weren't quite as dark as before. He looked like he'd just thought of something.

"What you said earlier...did you mean it?" he whispered. I frowned and squeezed his shoulder in confusion.

"Mean what, Bucky?" I asked. He shifted uncomfortably.

"You said....you said you loved me. Did you mean it?" he asked, his voice hardly above a whisper. He looked unsure of himself, and I realized suddenly what he was talking about- I had told him that I loved him while we were fighting. I'd nearly forgotten in everything that had happened afterwards.

I leaned forward and hugged him the best I could without letting go of Steve, resting my chin on his shoulder and pressing his cheek to mine. His heart was beating a million miles an hour.

"Of course I did, Bucky. Every word," I replied. And I really did mean it.

He let out a breath I didn't know he had been holding and relaxed into my embrace. After a second, I noticed that my cheek was wet, and I pulled away to see a few tears had escaped Bucky's eyes. I was shocked- I'd never seen him cry before.

"Bucky, what's wrong?" Steve asked, stealing the words right out of my mouth. Bucky sniffed and palmed at his eyes in an effort to stop crying.

"I'm sorry, I'm just a little mentally exhausted," he said lightly, a humorless smile on his face. I gave him a small smile of reassurance, and Steve reached across my lap and placed his hand on Bucky's shoulder.

"Take all the time you need. We're here if you need us," he said quietly, squeezing Bucky's arm. Bucky nodded and smiled for real this time.

For the next hour, the three of us sat there in silence, our hands clasped together and our eyes closed. My heart refused to slow down. I was worried about Natasha, I was worried about what Steve would do if Natasha didn't make it, and I was worried about how Bucky's going to cope with what happened today. There were so many things to worry about, so many things that could go horribly, catastrophically wrong before the day was over. My mind raced to try and think of solutions to all of our problems, but the only solution I could think of was Natasha surviving her injuries. And I was terrified that this was a hit she wouldn't be able to shake off.

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Two hours after we sat down, a nurse came wandering into the lobby and stopped in front of us. He was tall and probably middle aged, a pair of glasses hanging from his bloody, wrinkled scrubs. His face was blank and I couldn't discern any emotions from it.

"Are you three here for Natasha?" he asked, and the three of us sat up straight, nodding vigorously.

"Is she alive?" Steve asked immediately with a hoarse voice. The nurse paused one agonizingly long second before answering.

"Yes," the nurse replied, and I breathed in deeply, the first easy breath I'd been able to take in all day. Steve visibly relaxed beside me, throwing his hands up to his face and releasing a breath he'd probably been holding for hours. Bucky closed his eyes, a tiny smile of relief dancing on his lips.

"She alive, but just barely. The bullet pierced through her liver and she was dangerously close to bleeding out. She's in stable condition now, but we need to keep an eye on her for the next couple of days just to make sure everything heals properly," the nurse finished, and I nodded. I hated that she was in such bad shape, but she was alive, and that was all that mattered right now.

"Thank you so much," I told him, and he nodded curtly, mentioning that we could visit her in a few hours.

Steve, Bucky and I embraced again.

"She's ok," Steve murmured. "Thank god she's ok."

"Thank god I didn't kill her," Bucky said quietly, and I glanced at him, pressing my lips reassuringly to his cheek.

"Let's just thank god that we are together."