girl ― saved by captain america

[twenty two] an old-fashioned taste in names

[Steve]

Bruce didn't really have an option when it came to sedating Girl to treat her bullet wound; it was clear from the get-go that she was in too much pain to handle going through the process conscious. Thankfully, she went down easily. Bruce just explained to her gently that he was going to make things better, and that he was going to give her some medicine so that she wouldn't feel anything. Within what seemed like moments of him placing the drip, she was out like a light.

Now, the bullet has been completely removed, and Bruce has tended to the wound properly. A large bandage covers the child's side, protecting the many newly-made stitches. I've moved from my spot on the edge of her bed to a fold-out chair a few feet away. Peter's next to me, his leg bouncing anxiously. "She'll be out for a little while longer, most likely," Bruce comments as he removes his final pair of gloves and disposes of them. Shifting over to the sink, he pumps his palm full of soap before switching on the faucet and beginning to scrub. "Her line is transitioning from the sedative to purely pain management; I'm hoping it'll be a smooth switch over, but you never know how someone might end up feeling as they come to." As the doctor finishes explaining his plan, there's a knock on the door. "Come in," Bruce raises his voice.

The door swings open to reveal a panicked looking Tony. His hair is uneven, one or two of the buttons on his shirt messily undone. Clint and Nat stand behind him, both looking concerned as well. "Oh god," Tony says as his eyes fall upon the sleeping body in the bed. He steps forward, running a hand through his hair, the two behind him filing in and closing the door behind the three of them.

"We got the bullet out. It was lodged pretty deep in there, but the removal was fairly clean. She'll take a while to heal up, but it could have been a lot worse. She was maybe an inch away from puncturing her stomach," Bruce says, drying off his hands with a paper towel.

"How did this happen?" Tony asks, not seeming to be questioning anyone in particular. "She left that safe-house and came back here with a bullet in her side? There was no complaining of pain, no blood, no nothing?" I can hear the frustration rising in his voice, and I sigh.

"Tony, we had no idea," I tell him evenly. "She didn't show any signs of being hurt. I didn't catch it. Wanda didn't. Clint didn't, none of us did."

Tony sucks in a breath, turning to me with a sharp look in his eyes. "So you're trying to tell me that this kid just took a shot to the fucking gut and you didn't notice?" he spits, this time clearly directing his harsh words at me.

"Tony," Nat warns.

The man shakes his head, silent for a moment before continuing, though his voice has shifted now, and his gaze has softened. "Look, I- I'm sorry, Cap. I'm sorry. I just- I hate that we're only like- a week into this, and the kid's already been shot."

"Sh-she said she didn't make a sound because Steve told her to be quiet while she was hiding," Peter whimpers, his eyes brimmed with tears. "They shot her, and sh-she was too scared to even..." The kid's voice trails off, Nat instinctively stepping over and placing a hand on his shoulder comfortingly. "I don't know how she didn't scream or cry. I-I wish she would've told me. I would've brought her to Bruce right away, I swear. I'm sorry I didn't notice - I sh-should've noticed. Noticing things is what I do. I-I'm so sorry. I-"

"Hey kid, it's okay. We all probably should've been keeping a closer eye on her. But the important thing now is that she's safe," Clint speaks up. There's a round of nods in agreement, and Tony steps closer to the bed, sitting down on the edge of the mattress. He reaches out and strokes Girl's cheek; still deep in her slumber, she doesn't stir. The dark-haired man swallows hard, and I can see tears forming in his eyes. Leaning forward slightly on the front half of my chair, I look over at Peter, Clint, and Nat.