Save me, Steve Rogers

Waking up

Three days pass, and Y/N wakes up. Groggy, and with the trace of a headache, she opens her eyes, expecting to see the grey walls of her room. Instead the walls are white, bright enough to make her squint until her eyes adjust. She looks to her left to see a monitor, beeping in rhythm. She follows the wire running out of it to a heart monitor clipped to her finger. She pulls the clip from off of her finger, and tosses it aside. Sitting up, she examines the room. Nothing about it seems familiar, she didn't even realise that her brothers compound had a hospital room. She climbs out of the bed, and notices that she's in a hospital gown.

What the hell? She thinks, looking around the room once more. I'm in a coma, and this is a dream... Or I'm dead. Her brother would never take her to a hospital. He'd just hope she'd wake up, and if she didn't, well then, she didn't. No big deal.

She spots her clothes folded neatly on a table near the bed, and she hurries over, pulling on her jeans and her T-shirt, and ripping off the gown. They've been washed, and they smell so fresh that she definitely thinks she's dead. Her brother would never have her clothes washed for her. Her shoes are on the floor, and she pulls them on. Even they don't have as much mud on them as she swore they had before. She pinches herself, just to be sure, but when nothing happens, she heads for the door.

The room leads out onto a corridor that she also doesn't recognise. Confused, she continues down the corridor, passing a number of doors leading to god knows where. The place seems deserted, and she doesn't bump into a single guard, like she usually would. She carries on following the corridor round until she reaches a set of stairs. She goes down them, wondering how big this place is, and she notices through the windows of the lower level that it must be very late. It's pitch black outside. No wonder she hasn't bumped into anyone.

She carries on wandering around the complex, until she hears a faint noise. Straining to hear, she heads in what she thinks is the direction the sound is coming from.

As she gets closer to the noise, it starts to sound more like someone getting beaten up. She speeds up, as quiet as she can, until she's right outside of the room she is sure the sound is coming from. The door is slightly ajar, so she tries to see inside, to no avail.

Hoping the noise being made in the room is loud enough to mask the sound of the door opening, she pushes it open enough so she can slip inside.

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He knows shes there before he sees her. She barely makes a sound, but the super solider in Steve knows she's there, and he stops beating the punching bag, and turns around. His muscles are strained against his white shirt, pumped full of blood from the workout. He's barely broken a sweat.

"Hey," he starts unwrapping his hands as he walks towards her. "You're up."

She looks around, taking in the vast open space surrounding the building.

"Where am I?" She asks, more curious than confused. She seems on edge though, as though expecting an attack at any second.

"This," he gestures vaguely around himself, indicating the building, "is the new Avengers Facility." He says this in a way that she understands she should be impressed. Instead she raises an eyebrow.

"The Avengers. So that would make you..." She looks him up and down, properly looking at him. Blonde hair, blue eyes, impossibly muscular, a jawline so strong it could be godly.

"I'm Steve," he holds out his hand to shake, "Rogers. Or I guess you'd know me as Captain America."

She takes his hand, and shakes it, nodding, "yes, of course, that would have been my first guess. I'm Y/N." She let's go of his hand, and smiles. "So, Captain America, could you tell me please how I ended up here?"

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"And then I took them both out. You had a pretty bad head injury so I brought you here, Dr. Cho looked over you, did some scans, said your brain is in tact, so it was just a matter of letting you sleep it off."

She nods, taking it in. So she wasn't back with her brother after all. Interesting.

"And how'd you know that I wasn't the bad guy? You could have beat up the good guys and left them, after all."

"I had a hunch. Besides," he smirks, "you don't look the type."

She raises her eyebrows, amused, unsure whether to be offended or complimented."A bit presumptuous, don't you think, Captain?"

He laughs, "So are you? The bad guy?"

"Depends who you ask." She looks away from him.

"You like hurting people?"

"Not particularly, why?"

"Then you're not the bad guy." He says, matter of factly, that makes Y/N smile, despite herself.