Reality in Motion

the aftermath

A dull, throbbing pain echoed throughout his whole body. After a mission or an op, there was always pain or aches, but this type felt different. It was more...personal. There were certain points where the pulses of pain were stronger - near his abdomen or his leg. The places where he had been shot, where Bucky had shot him. Oh right. He grimaced at the memory before it shifted to what happened after: the fight, the fall...and then the smooth sounds of some sort of music, a blurry image of Sam sitting on his left, then his lame attempt at a mumbled joke before he slipped back under.

Shifting in the bed made him wince as another flash of pain jolted through him. He groaned in response, slowly becoming aware of his surroundings. Pain aside, there were sticky things pressed all around his body, making his skin tight and sensitive. There was a steady beeping noise coming from his left, overpowering the muffled voices of people who were in the room. One of them sounded like Q's voice - Q.

He forced himself to wake up more, wanting to see her, but one of his stupid eyes wouldn't cooperate - having been practically punched in by Bucky. Still, he pushed past the pain, knowing it wasn't the worst he had dealt with, because the last time he saw her, she was in the control room at the Triskelion. Wearing Bucky's uniform. And while she may have looked confident in their plan, he could tell under the surface, she was worried about him. He needed to see her both to prove that he was okay and see that she was okay. Plus, there were things he needed to tell her. One thing, actually. One very important thing.

It took a few painful blinks for everything to come into focus. He was in a hospital room, that much he could tell, but a quick scan of the side of the room showed that there was no sign of her. Just a door, a wall of windows that looked out to the hall, and random objects scattered around. Swallowing the lump of pain in his throat, he turned his head to the other side, only to see Dason sitting in the chair beside the bed. His attention was up, looking at something on the wall, but at the noise Steve made, his gaze shifted down to check on him.

When he realized his eyes were open, he pushed out of his chair and got to his feet. There was a sad smile on his face and Steve's stomach immediately sank while his brain came up with a plethora of different reason why he was looking at him like that.

"Where's Q?" he managed out before clearing his throat. The sad smile stayed on Dawson's face as he crossed his arms over his chest.

"Cap, I'm sorry..." he trailed off, tone tender and soft. One he had never heard Dawson use before which worried him even more, "You've been asleep for another seventy years." he finished, giving him a tragic look, "Your friends, family..." he let it go again before taking in a breath, "We figured it would be easier for you to wake up to a familiar face, but this is just a projection. The man you knew is gone." he said solemnly. Steve didn't know what to do - his body was flooding with different emotions as a reaction: sadness, anger, confusion, guilt... it was like the first time he had woken up all over again.

"...What?" was all he could manage out. He couldn't believe what he had heard.

Another seventy years had passed. Another seventy years he had missed. Some would say that he was lucky, lucky to have survived longer than he ever should've. But he knew, deep down in his heart, that he was actually the unluckiest guy in the world. He had missed another lifetime, another chance at love, another...everything. He wasn't sure how he was going to be able to start over again.

Then a bubble of laughter burst from between Dawson's lips. He looked over to see there was a self-satisfied smirk plastered on his face. His arms dropped to his sides and he reached out to lightly shove Steve's shoulder.

"I'm just fucking with you, it's only been like three days." he laughed, clearly amused at his prank. He stared at his friend, unsure if he wanted to kill him for playing such a cruel joke on him or laugh in relief that it had only been three days, not seventy years. He went with the laugh, rolling his eyes as Dawson started to raise his bed up so he was in a sitting position.