Steve Rogers thought he was one of the lucky ones but Natasha Romanoff, well, she thought that she was terribly misfortunate and she would love to kick fate's ass. In a world where soulmates are real, unequivocal marks etched on skin signifying an i...
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The heart monitor beeped steadily as Steve Rogers slowly awoke. His eyes were heavy, the bedsheets rubbing uncomfortably against his skin as he shifted in the hospital bed and tried to gather his bearings. Soft jazz music played from a speaker to his right, and he opened his eyes to see Sam Wilson sitting in the bedside chair, a smirk tugging at the corner of his friend's mouth as Sam noticed that Steve had awoken. "On your left..." Sam said, setting down the magazine he had been reading as he sat up against the pillows behind him. The memories of how he ended up in a hospital came rushing back to him like a tidal wave, dragging him out to sea and swiftly pulling him under. He recalled the desperate moments to stop HYDRA's attack on the world, the final countdown... 3, 2, 1... and then freeing Bucky in what would've ultimately been his last and final death.
It had almost been Steve's as well.
That was until Bucky remembered him.
Even though the haze of his mind - the brainwashing, the torture, and affliction - his childhood best friend had remembered who he was and chose to save his life instead of killing him. He didn't remember anything after that, but he knew he had to help his friend in some way or another.
However, there was someone else on his mind - someone who meant just as much to him. "Is Natasha okay?" He asked Sam gruffly, apprehension twisting up his spine as he wondered where she was and praying she wasn't lying in a hospital bed as well. It had been afflicting to leave her side, to fight without her when he had been fighting with her for months now. Not only that, she was more vulnerable with her injured shoulder. She was still plenty capable of defending herself; she was the Black Widow, after all, but she was breakable. They all were, and he would feel entirely guilty if she had gotten hurt.
Or worse.
"She's pissed but yeah, she's alright. She said something about killing the Winter Soldier." Sam replied nonchalantly.
Relief washed over Steve, only to swiftly dissipate as he realized what his friend said. "What?" He frowned, his blonde eyebrows creasing in worry. He didn't want Bucky assassinated, and he didn't want her hurt trying to murder him either. However, he was confined to a hospital bed and if she had gone after Bucky, there was nothing he could do until he was discharged. Panic and helplessness bubbled inside him as he thought about Bucky being killed or losing the woman he had come to adore.
He didn't know which was worse.
"Sam! You weren't supposed to say anything to him."
Steve sighed with utter relief as he heard her voice, and she strode into the room with bags of fast food in her arms. She smiled beautifully as if nothing was amiss - as if he wasn't in a hospital bed. It was as if he was at home waiting for her to lie down in his arms, as if he was right where he belonged, and she was right by his side. Her emerald eyes met his azure ones as she walked to the bedside, sat down in one of the chairs, and placed the food on the table.
