The Prince And The Rose

20 - Hello from the other side

He couldn't breathe. It felt vaguely as if someone was sitting on his chest, squeezing the life out of him while fire burned in his stomach, twisting alive and hot like a dragon. Pain. He realized he was clinging to his gun still, and with a groan he let go of it.

Was someone there with him? He didn't know.

"Steve? Steve! He's waking up!"

He cringed. So loud. Why were they so loud?

"Let me through." A low growl, laden with worry and aggression. Bucky.

Steve bit the insides of his cheeks and forced his eyes open. His stomach hurt so much and breathing... breathing felt wrong.

"Steve, Steve, look at me." Sam. Steve did as he was told, sluggish. He could see the rest of the team standing around worried, and he immediately tried to sit up, to reassure them, to tell them he was alright. He had to stifle a cry of pain as Bucky and Sam and Wanda simultaneously shouted at him "Don't move!"

He remembered now. He'd been stabbed... three times? He thought it was three.

"Idiot," Bucky growled. "You absolute idiot. You couldn't just stay with the rest of us? Damn you, you reckless son of a bitch."

Steve smiled a little. "Am I gonna be okay?"

Bucky's incredulous laugh choked off in what sounded like a sob, and Sam glanced at Wanda for a moment before answering. It occurred to Steve, suddenly, that Wanda's cheeks were tear-stained. He wanted to get up and hug her, comfort Bucky, but everything hurt so much and he was suddenly aware of how wet his skin and suit were. Blood. He shuddered, a chill of fear tracing cold fingers up his spine.

"Steve, we didn't even think you were gonna wake up again," Clint said gruffly.

"So no," he mumbled, raising a shaking hand to his face. His fingers were covered in blood and he quickly let his arm go limp. "Bucky."

His friend looked at him, grey eyes so hollow and haunted. "What?" he snarled, but he wasn't angry at Steve. Steve knew what it looked like when Bucky was mad at him, and this wasn't it.

"You take my shield."

"Don't you dare," the Sergeant said. "Don't do that, Steven Grant Rogers. Don't do that to me."

"No, listen." Steve hated that he couldn't sit up. He closed his eyes, scowling against the pain. "You take my shield. When you all go back... the shield's yours."

He opened his eyes again to shoot Bucky a glare, commanding, for once. He didn't order Bucky around anymore, but he would now. Because if he didn't, he wasn't sure what would happen to his friend once he was gone.

Bucky was crying. Bucky wasn't supposed to cry. Steve looked away, gave Wanda a half-hearted smile. She'd just lost Pietro. This wasn't fair to her. She glowed faintly with red light, like she was trying to protect herself.

"Where's my phone?" He had one more thing to do. One more.

"Your phone?"

"Yes, where's my goddamn phone?" he snapped, harsher than he meant to.

Sam sighed and pulled the device out of Steve's pocket. "Here."

He knew the number by heart, and although he hadn't dialed it for months, his fingers found the buttons easily.

He didn't know what he was planning to say, but when she picked up, answering with a casual, "Hey," he almost broke down. But he didn't.

"Hey Nat." He smiled a little, deciding privately not to tell her what was happening. He knew they couldn't get here in time to save him, he could feel it, and he wasn't letting them put his team back in prison.

"Steve?!" He could practically hear her gaping, incredulous. "What the hell? Why are you calling? What's wrong?"

"Nothing." He snorted. "It's fine. I just missed you."

His team protested, of course. "Tell her, Steve!" Bucky protested, anger making his voice scrape. "You could have a chance, just tell her, damn it!"

"What's going on, Steve?" Nat said, suspicious. "Why are you calling me now?"

"I told you. I miss you."

She sighed, long and frustrated. "Okay, let's pretend you aren't totally lying to me. How are you?"

"Been better," he admitted. That was funny. He chuckled a little to himself.

"Well, you are a wanted fugitive trying to save the world," she said. "The vigilante life doesn't sound good on you, Steve."

"Doesn't feel so good either. I'm really tired. And I hate having to hide all the time." Oh, God. He hurt. "What about you?"

"Things aren't so bad."

"Now who's lying?" he said, trying to keep a pained groan out of his voice.

She laughed shortly. "I never expected this to go well, Steve, but... I chose this because I knew it would happen. If I'd fought with you, they'd never trust me. I'd lose everything. I'm sorry."

"It doesn't matter." Steve realized things were going dark again. He was slipping. Blood was everywhere, too much of it. "Good talking to you, Natasha," he said. Ah, shit. He'd said that badly. He didn't think he'd meant to say it like he was crying. Was he crying? Or was that just more blood?

"Steve? Steve, what's wrong?"

"Nothing, I'm... I'm fine."

"Steve! Where are you? You are not okay at all, where are you?"

"i love you"

Bucky grabbed the phone from him then. "He's dying!" he yelled into the phone, panicked. Steve let his eyes fall closed. "He's dying, you have to come help him!" He started shouting their location.

His heartbeat was getting louder and slower. Was that normal? Steve just wanted it to be over. There was blood everywhere. It didn't hurt anymore, at least, but it was hard to breathe. Hard to think.

The blackness was beautiful. He thought there was supposed to be light. Where was the light?

There. He sighed and reached out for it. Safe. He'd finally be safe.

He could rest.