bulletproof

11

She brought her hands to her cheeks, wiping away the tears from her skin and blowing her nose before answering the door. She'd been having the same recurring nightmare for a week now, she knew what to expect every time she woke up; an almost panic attack, and tears.

"Y/N? You in there?" Came the gentle voice of Steve...and adrenaline coursed through her veins at the sound of it, she didn't know why...she didn't understand why the voices of her teammates had her almost in a panic attack, had her freeze up in fear, had her dread their presence.

So she felt guilty about those feelings, and so she avoided them now.

She cleared her throat of croakiness and staggered to the door, making careful movements so as to not cause any damage to her wound, and opened the door slowly, peeking her head around the crack of it and forcing a smile at him, "Hi..."

His face was a sign of sweetness and sincere adoration as he looked down at her from his great height of six foot, "Hey, good morning..."

"What brings you at this hour?" she asked, shooting a quick glance at her alarm clock and then cursing at herself...was she seriously asking why he was awake at ten-thirty in the morning? On a Monday?!

His face contorted into confusion, "It's pretty late morning, right now...did you just wake up?" the uncertainty in his voice transformed to incredulity as he focused straight on her face and looking at her 'Just woke up' look.

She yawned exaggeratingly, "Yeah...the..." she searched for an excuse to make up for her tardiness, "the wound was keeping me up last night..." she lied, "It's twinging now and again, you know, and makes me really tired...I might even nap right now, you know how it is with injuries..." she gave him a sweet smile before aiming to close the door.

His hand reached to stop it from closing last second, "Y/N...what's going on?"

She blinked innocently at him, "Nothing?"

"You're avoiding everyone...is there something wrong?"

She sighed, "No, Steve. I'm just tired. Can you just please let me have some space to breathe?" She snapped, guilt washing in, the moment the words flooded out of her.

His face was lit with sadness and hurt at the hearing of her remark and he stepped back, allowing her to finally close the door and further distance herself away from him.

He shuffled away from her closed her, leaning back against the wall opposite while he gathered his thoughts. He...and well, everybody had noticed the weird things Y/N was doing. And it broke their hearts having to see her push them away forcefully.

"Hey, Steve." Nat greeted him as she went for another cup of coffee, her face a picture of pleasure. She looked well-rested, the opposite of Y/N in every way.

"Hey," he mumbled back, dragging his feet to the sofa and collapsing down in it, mentally exhausted and quietly upset, "Have any of you noticed anything wrong with Y/N?" 

Sam nodded emphatically from the bar, in mid-bite of his croissant, "Yeah...She's not so happy any more, is she?"

Nat sighed, leaning against the bar on the other side of him, lost in thought for a moment before saying, "Maybe she's just...trying to regather her thoughts, you know? I mean, she did get shot in the stomach..."

Steve turned to her, looking at her over the back of the sofa, "She's been shot before..."

"Oh, Steve." Nat shot him a smile, "But she's never taken a bullet for someone."

He froze up at that remark, "She...what?"

Nat's smile faltered and she took a long sip of coffee, "Nothing...she's just tired, is all..." She covered up her mistake. Ever since the whole incident, Nat was starting to lose her master assassin lying skills, and everything just poured out now.

"Nat..." Steve's voice was low and laced with malice, "What did you say?"

The Russian slammed her mug on the countertop and crossed her arms, "You really want to know exactly what happened out on the battlefield, Rogers?" She snorted, "Fine! I'll tell you. Someone, an agent, aimed to shoot at me. Right at my torso. And she ran in front of me and took it instead."

"What?" Steve sounded incredulous, "Why couldn't you take the shooter out?"

"I could handle it...she just didn't realise until after the bullet got her. No one can outrun bullets, Steve."

The super soldier sat there, dumbfounded. 

The water ran cold against her skin as she stepped into the shower, but she couldn't feel anything. Everything was just numb. Her fingers slid across her skin, slippery, and her fingertips grazed across the scar on her abdomen, sparking flashbacks so powerful that they had her on her knees, gasping for breath. 

Screams were reverberating in her ears and she couldn't see anything but dark metal and red. She remembered seeing the flash of red hair spinning around and then the dark metal of the gun metres away. No. Not Nat. She leapt in the path of the bullet, intercepting it with her body. 

She could taste blood in her mouth. The bitter metallic tang of it. It was all she could taste nowadays. She hated food. Everything was disgusting.

The walls of the shower were closing in on her. It was hard to breathe. Oh God...she was going to die all over again. 

She sank to the floor and curled up into a little ball as cold water shot down on her, hitting every crevice of her body. Her head was pressed against the glass screen on the shower and she could feel her eyes stinging again. Great, more tears.

She reached a hand to turn the shower off but it was nearly impossible from her position and the fact that the switch was behind her. Her hand was shaky. From nerves or emotion. She didn't know any more. She couldn't tell what she could feel any more. 

Happiness? Sadness? Indistinguishable. 

She wanted help but she didn't want help. She was scared to tell any of her friends about her feelings. Every time she opened her mouth to admit her thoughts, her words lodged themselves in her throat in terror and she just fled back to her room.

Y/N closed her eyes and turned so that her back was fully pressed against the screen, taking deep breaths and just feeling everything around her. The pitter-patter of the droplets of water around and on her. The cool porcelain feeling of the base of the shower on her legs and feet. 

Calm. 

~~~

Nat was hiding the shakiness of her hands as she poured the coffee into the mug.

 Just pour it. Easy and casually. No one knows about...you.

Steve's voice was calming, slightly, but when he brought up how he thought there was something suspicious with Y/N, her nerves frayed on end and she had to slam the mug down to prevent herself from dropping it. 

She couldn't even control what was flowing out of her. Just words were gushing out and didn't stop. She was screaming internally as her words summarised what happened then. Right then and there, when Y/N threw herself in front of the shooter to save her life. Nat was lying when she said she could have easily dodged the bullet. If Y/N hadn't done what she did, Nat would now be six feet under.

Part of her wished she was. Guilt coursed through her veins in replacement of blood. She had red on her ledger. She needed to clean the red away but Y/N just added some more onto it. 

She needed to do something about that.

a/n *What did you think about Y/N and her actions? Do you think it was right for her to push everyone away to deal with her own problems? What was your opinion on Nat becoming less silver-tongued and more honest? I'd love to hear what you think about Steve! My sister (who reads this story) thinks that he's annoying and kind of a jerk in this story so just let me know what you guys think of him and if you find him annoying too. If there're any tips you have for me, don't hesitate to let me know!*