The Soldier and the Spy.

Chapter 27

***Variel***

I sprint to the rubble. "What? Where was he!?" I shout to Natasha, who is trying to get the little girl to calm down.

"The bus! He was in the school bus!" she replies wildly, handing the girl to an emergency worker that has just shown up on the scene.

I make my way gingerly over the demolished building, grunting with pain every time my dislocated left arm hits a pile of concrete.

"Let me fix that before you do any digging through rubble," Natasha says, coming up behind me. She grasps my shoulder with one hand, and my arm with the other. She yanks my arm back sharply, and a jolt of pain shoots up my arm.

"Ahhh," I hiss, looking down at my arm. Surprisingly, it feels a lot better. I flex my arm experimentally. "Thanks, sis," I say briefly, turning back to my desperate search.

"Steve? Steve?" I call, gingerly heaving huge pieces of twisted metal and rock from on top of the bus. "Come on, Steve, answer me!" I cry.

***Steve***

I hear a voice calling through the fog of pain. Something heavy is laying on my chest, and it's hard to draw breath. I just want the noise to stop, and ease my aching head. It occurs to me, as the voice yells yet again, that I should answer.Then the events of the last few minutes- or was it hours?- come back to me.

"I'm here." I try to say, but it comes out as a groan. I try again, and this time I manage a weak croak that bears a passing semblance to words.

"Steve! I'm coming!" the voice says, and I recognize it as Variel's.

I can feel weight shifting on top of me, and suddenly something even heavier is on top of me. I manage the closest thing I can to a scream- that is, a painful groan- and the weight lifts suddenly, leaving me blinking in the unexpected light that causes more pain in my head than ever.

"Variel!" I gasp, as she tears away the rest of the crumbled concrete that is covering my body.

"Steve! Oh my goodness are you alright?" she asks, bending over me.

***Variel***

I breathe an inner sigh of relief when I find Steve in the decimated cocoon of the school bus, but my stomach tenses up again when I realize what terrible shape he's in. His chest is completely covered in his blood, and his eyes are unfocused, due to the concussion that he is sure to have gotten.

"Am I okay? You don't look too good either. What happened to your jaw?" he asks, slowly putting his hand up and turning my head, looking at my bruises. His voice is gravelly and pain-filled.

I chuckle softly and attempt a smile, wincing as my jaw reminds me that it is broken. "Yeah, well have you looked at yourself, captain? You do not look pretty."

"Yeah, I think I may have broken a few ribs," he says with a grin, trying to struggle into a sitting position. With a grunt, he gives up and lays back down, just as his body is wracked with coughs. "I think I'll just stay here for a while," he says, his voice a whisper. I can tell how much this is hurting him. He coughs again, and this time he can't hide the blood that flecks onto his sleeve. He says something that I can't hear and I lean closer.

"What?" I ask, trying to hide the worry in my eyes.

"Will you..." he starts, but breaks into gasping, shuddering coughs again, clutching his broken ribs. I turn away to shout for a medic, but his grip on my arm brings me back.

"Variel," he gasps.

"Yeah?" I answer, hoping desperately that this will not be my last conversation with him.

"Will you..." he interrupts himself with a single cough. "...go out...with me?"

I swear my heart stopped. "What?" I ask, choking back a hysterical snort. "You mean you want to be my boyfriend?!"

He nods, and I am only barely able to keep myself from bursting into laughter.

"Is that a yes, then?" he asks, with such a look of concern that I can't contain it any more. I collapse on a chunk of concrete and laugh helplessly, tears streaming down my face from the sudden relief of stress. Pain shoots through my jaw again, and this time it's worse, seeing as I have just been moving it for at least five minutes straight.

"What a time to ask!" I exclaim, finally getting myself under control. "If you promise not to die, I will 'go out with you,' okay, Steve?" I say, finally hailing a medic, who hurries over.

As Steve is lifted onto the stretcher, he turns to me with such a wide grin that I almost start laughing again. "I love you!" he says, and then the ambulance doors swing shut behind him.

******The Next Day******

***Variel***

"Variel," Natasha calls, tapping on the door to my room.

"Hmm?" I ask, opening the door for her. Because of the huge bandage on my jaw, I can hardly talk, and I have to eat all my meals through a straw. It definitely stinks, especially when you've got Tony there asking you if you want some more baby food. And I would feel bad if I beat him up, because he got a broken arm while battling four Jotun at once, so I had to settle for punching him in his uninjured arm and then walking out.

"Steve's awake," she says, and I bolt from the room, eager to see my 'new boyfriend' (as Tony's been calling him for the last twenty four hours).

I tap gently on the door of the hospital wing.

"Come in, Variel," Thor's deep baritone answers, and I push the door open, expecting the worst like the little pessimist that I am. Clint, Thor, and Bruce are sitting in the fluffy chairs that adorn the small waiting area before the actual hospital rooms, in various states of injury. The Jotuns proved to be quite fierce opponents, and nearly all of us are harmed in some way or another. Aside from his broken arm, Tony has a couple massive bruises, and Clint's leg was completely shattered when one of the Jotuns hurled him against a bridge. Thor and Bruce escaped relatively unscathed (Thor being a god, and Bruce being The Hulk the whole time), except for the mandatory aches and bruises.

I look to the bed, and see Steve sitting up. Approaching the side of the bed, I sit down gently. I look at him, studying his face. In the back of my mind, I register that the others have left the room. "How are you feeling?"

"Like I got run over by a bus," he says, and grins. Steve has a wide white bandage across his chest, and his eyes are sunken in his face. He looks awful.

"Well, I think the bus had some help," I reply. "What's the damage assessment, 'soldier'?"

"I had seven broken ribs, a punctured lung from the window glass, and a concussion," he replies, ticking them off on his fingers. "Supposedly I'm 'lucky' because the bus 'shielded' me from the worst of it," he says, making air quotes. "What about you?"

"Just a broken jaw," I answer, my voice still muffled by the bandage around my chin. "I'm not supposed to be talking, but it was hard to keep silent with Tony badgering me nonstop about my 'new boyfriend'."

"About that-" Steve starts, but I silence him with a kiss.