Daybreak | Steve Rogers

Chapter Thirteen: The Fall Of Foxtrot

TW: Hospitals, death, panic attack

I raced into the hospital, desperately trying to ignore the way my heart was hammering in my ears. Nat gave me a small nod as I stood between her and Rogers, the three of us staring at the room on the other side of a large glass window.

Director Fury was lying on an operating table, several people desperately trying to remove the bullets from his chest. He looked so helpless, I'd never seen him look so vulnerable. I felt my stomach churn as I stared at him.

A hand hesitantly reached for mine, our fingers interlacing. I didn't fight it, I didn't pull away, the contact actually comforted me a little. "Is he gonna make it?" I asked quietly, looking up at Steve.

His eyes met mine, his sky blue irises seeming to shimmer with emotion. "I don't know" he spoke slowly, every word filled with caution and care as he stared back at me.

I finally looked away, turning my gaze on Nat. There was a dangerous look on her face, "Tell me about the shooter"

"He's fast. Strong. Had a metal arm"

I saw some movement in the corner of my eye and glanced around to see Agent Hill approaching us. "Ballistics?" Nat asked.

The woman sighed, "Three slugs, no rifling. Completely untraceable"

"Soviet-made" the redhead guessed.

The steady beeping of the heart monitor suddenly went flat and the nurses began to move around frantically, grabbing different pieces of equipment. I could feel the air catch in my throat, which was still bruised and aching from the previous night's mission.

"Don't do this to me, Nick" I murmured. My grip on Steve's hand tightened and I felt him squeeze back, either of us able to tear our gazes away from the operating table.

The theatre fell into a chilling silence, an awful calm settling over everyone. My eyes began to sting and I reluctantly let go of his hand, making my way out of the room as quickly as I could.

I made my way into an empty room, closing the door behind me. The air that had caught in my throat suddenly escaped, a loud sob ripping through the quiet. I could feel the room spinning, that terrible silence crashing down on me, bringing me to my knees. Hot tears streamed down my cheeks and I brought my hands to my head, tugging at a few strands of hair in frustration. 

It was as if my lungs were being crushed, as if my heart was being squeezed. My hands trembled, desperately clawing against the polished floor as I tried to get up. I finally managed to push myself against a wall, a shaky hand reaching up for my bruised neck. It was as if that hand had come back, its deadly grip twisting my thoughts into a messy tangle of jumbled words and frantic screams for help.

After a moment, my head began to clear. I focused all of my attention on creating a new box, a box to hide all of my thoughts, all of my experiences from that evening. Each memory was placed in it, fitting perfectly into that box. The lid shut as I opened my eyes, locking itself and hiding away at the back of my mind.

My breathing began to steady and I got up, ignoring the shakiness of my legs. I furiously rubbed at my eyes and cheeks, trying to hide any evidence that I had been crying. My eyes were still burning, but I did my best to ignore it.

The door creaked open and I stood up straight, staring at Rogers in shock. He studied me for a moment, his gaze softening. The man sighed and took a step closer to me, pausing when I backed away. "Uh, we're allowed to see him now... i-if you want to do that. If you don't, we can go. Do you wanna talk about it?" he asked quietly. I frowned, seeing the way he looked at me, the way he pitied me.

"I don't need to talk, I'm fine"

I stood next to Nat, staring at the body lying on the table in front of us. It wasn't him. It had the same beard, the same eyepatch, but that was all. It looked wrong, it didn't look like a person anymore. It was just a body, a lifeless corpse.

It wasn't Nick.

I turned away, standing next to Rogers. He opened his mouth as if he was going to say something to me, but he quickly closed it again.

Hill entered the room, looking at me with that same look. That stupid look of pity that I had grown so sick of seeing. "I need to take him" she said quietly, not looking away from the body.

I made my way over to Nat, "Natasha?"

She nodded silently, gently placing a hand on the body's forehead before striding out of the room. Rogers glanced at me, both of us hurrying after her.

"Natasha" Rogers called as we made our way out into the corridor.

She froze and turned to glare at him, "Why was Fury in your apartment?"

He sighed and shrugged, "I don't know"

"Cap, they want you back at SHIELD" Rumlow called from down the hall.

"Yeah, give me a second"

"They want you now"

He let out a huff and nodded, "Okay"

I frowned at him in suspicion once he turned to face us again. "You're a terrible liar" I noted, motioning for Nat and I to leave.