Captured // A Winter Soldier Story

chapter twenty three // healing

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"Look around, look around at how lucky we are to be alive right now."
-That Would Be Enough by Lin-Manuel Miranda

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reyna's point of view

An hour later, while we were still waiting for a doctor, Fury walked into the doors of the hospital. His black trench coat billowed out behind him as he headed straight for us.

"How is she?" he demanded, coming to a stop a foot from the front of our bench. I stirred from Steve's shoulder and Bucky quite pacing to come see what Fury wanted. Immediately, I cast a glare in Fury's direction.

"Oh, so now you come. You clearly give a shit," I muttered, and his eyebrows promptly knotted in anger.

"Don't you dare try and tell me I don't care about Natasha. I just spent the last hour trying to clean up the mess YOU made in the middle of an Arlington neighborhood," he shot back. "And lucky for you, I managed to get your father into custody before he got away, since you left him there. Don't try and give me that shit, girl."

My eyes widened. After all the problems my father had caused, and all the anger I felt towards him...I'd forgotten about him the moment Natasha needed me. I'd nearly let him get away again in my haste to get Natasha evacuated. Fuck.

"I...oh god. That one is on me," I replied, rubbing my eyes tiredly. Leave it to me to do something that dumb. "Shit, I really screwed up on that one. Sorry."

Fury tried to stay angry, but I could tell that he was exhausted, and the anger dissolved quickly into weariness. He shook his head.

"You helped save Natasha and your father didn't get away, so there's no point in freaking out. Just don't let a mistake like that happen again."

I nodded, a little embarrassed that I screwed up so bad. In my defense, though, I have had a very long day. Fury looked around for a place to sit, but before he could sit down and wait with us, the nurse from earlier came back into the lobby. I noticed he was no longer covered in Natasha's blood.

"She's awake now, would you like to see her?" He asked, and all of us stood up, nodding eagerly.

He smiled and led us down the main hall. Turning left at the first intersection, we followed him straight into the first room in the new hallway, where my eyes fell on Natasha.

Nat was under several blankets, and was attached to lots of shiny, beeping machines. Wires were all over the place. She gave us a tired smile.

"Hey," she said. I laughed in relief at her nonchalant greeting.

"Hey," I said, crossing the room and grabbing her hand. She held on tight. "How are you feeling?"

"Sorta like I got run over by a truck. But other than that, I'm great," she answered, and I laughed, the first laugh any of us had let out since before my father sent that note to me in Steve's apartment. A smile spread across Steve's face and he came and stood beside me. His left hand rested on my shoulder and his right hand was entwined with Nat's.

"I'm so glad you're ok, Nat. To be honest, I'm not sure what we'd do without you," he said, and Natasha gave him a smile, a thousand different emotions shining in her eyes. I wondered if there was anything going on between them, and if there was, I wondered if they'd fully admitted it to themselves yet. They meant a lot to each other and had been through a lot together, and it wouldn't surprise me if they ever felt a little something extra. But for now, they simply reveled in the fact that both of them were alive, and that was enough for them.

My gaze then shifted to Bucky. He stood just inside the doorway, huddled uncomfortably off to the side. His eyes were sad. I couldn't imagine the guilt or the pain he was feeling. But seeing his sadness- his inner turmoil- it stung. All I wanted was to lighten the load resting on his shoulders, to help him carry the heavy burdens he couldn't seem to shake- but how do you help someone that is suffering so deeply?

"Bucky," Natasha said suddenly, yanking me from my thoughts. Her gaze had followed mine, and she let go of my hand, beckoning for Bucky to come to her bed. Bucky glanced up at Steve and I for a second and hesitated before shakily making his way towards Nat. He grimaced when he took a gander at all the wires surrounding her, but Natasha grabbed his hand and forced him to shift his gaze to her instead.

"Bucky, you didn't do this, and you know that. Just because your body was responsible for what happened does not mean that your conscience must carry the weight of the guilt associated with it. You have absolutely nothing to feel guilty for. So give me a hug and let's forget about it, alright?" Natasha said sternly, and Bucky paused for a second before his face relaxed. He even smiled a bit as he reached down to hug her gently. The pain wasn't gone, but Natasha's forgiveness was enough to take at least some of his guilt away. He could breathe a little easier now. She wrapped her arms around his torso, squeezing lightly before releasing him.

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For the next hour, we stayed with her, sitting in hard plastic chairs and watching crappy television on a tiny TV but enjoying ourselves nonetheless. Doctors came in and out to check her vitals every now and then. We talked to each other about anything we could think of between their visits. Amazingly enough, we found a lot of topics to talk about that didn't have to do with fighting, bloodshed or war. It almost felt like we were leading normal lives for a moment.

Fury came in a few minutes after the last Doctor left, having wanted to stay out of the way at first, and made sure that Natasha was alright. He had a lot of business to attend to concerning the arrests of all the Hydra agents he'd taken prisoner (including my father) but he stayed for nearly half an hour before reluctantly deciding that he needed to get a move on and head to S.H.I.E.L.D.

Sometime after he left, Natasha fell asleep, and the doctors shooed us out. Visiting time was officially over. We called up Hill, as we didn't want to bother Fury again, and Hill sent over a car and several vehicles full of armed soldiers to escort us back to S.H.I.E.L.D.

By now, it was nearly four in the morning, and the awful rain from earlier had slowed to a dull drizzle. I sat between Bucky and Steve in the backseat. The only thing keeping me awake was the rhythmic tapping of Bucky's fingers on my knee. I wasn't sure what the beat of the tapping was to, but I imagined that it was a part of a song that was light and pretty and soft- a melody that the broken man beside me deserved to hear, as opposed to the screaming static that usually filled his head.

We arrived at the S.H.I.E.L.D. base quickly, and were rushed off to temporary barracks in one of the bottom floors of the building. All of our stuff that had been recovered from the car crash earlier was still being processed, cleaned and fixed, so we had nothing but a few blankets and plain clothing- but I couldn't have been happier. We were safe, Natasha was alive, my father was in custody, and I could finally sleep.

I curled up with Bucky on the bed he'd chosen in the corner and, with his metal arm wrapped carefully around my torso and my head buried in his collarbone, we drifted off into a peaceful sleep quite quickly after laying down.

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"Look at where you are, look at where you started. The fact that you're alive is a miracle. Just stay alive, that would be enough."

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