The Algorithm To Infinity

[13] one in a million

"1... 2... 3!"

Gunshots pierced the air as the rest of the Avengers slaughtered the man who dared to hurt one of their teammates - one of their family members. Even in the deep snow, he didn't think he'd ever moved so fast to cover her. However, as soon as the gunshots started, they immediately ceased and he rose to his knees to cradle her in his arms. He frantically tore off his ensemble, numb to the cold, and applied pressure to the wounds on her abdomen, only to realize that there were two exit wounds on her back. "Stay with m-me, baby." He pleaded through sobs that shook his shoulders. He ripped apart the fabric and tied it around her as best as he could, his hands shaking violently and his ears ringing. She was limp in his arms, her eyes closed and her face as pale as the snow. Panic overwrought him, and he braced her against his knees to lean over her protectively. "Look at me..." He cried, cradling her face in his hands. "Open your eyes!"

She didn't move, but her eyelashes fluttered.

He could feel her sharp exhales against his neck, the way her body fought to close the wounds and heal her as her life bled from her. He didn't care that he was crying, that everyone was around him and trying to get him to let go of her. He couldn't lose her; he couldn't let her go because she would be stolen away, and he held her so tightly that he dared God to try and take her away from him. He wasn't thinking straight. He knew he wasn't. But how could he as he cried and begged for more time with his beautiful, stubborn, and selfless Natasha?

His teammates tried to pull him away from her, Pietro grasping his shoulders and shaking him gently. "Steve, come on. Let her go!" He said desperately.

It was when Bruce pushed his way through everyone that it drew him out of his anguish, the doctor's hands on two of Natasha's wounds as he began to hold steady pressure. "She will die if we don't treat her immediately. Let her go, Captain." He said calmly.

His words reached him, a soothing voice in the disarray of losing his soulmate. It dawned on him that he would be the one to kill her, to force her to take her last breath if he didn't let her go. He couldn't be the one to save her this time. Slowly drawing back and laying Natasha down, he looked at Bruce through the tears that stung his eyes. "Help her." He begged.

"We will do everything we possibly can," Bruce said assuredly and then he began giving orders to their teammates while he watched helplessly. He watched as they injected her with dozens of medications and plugged the four wounds as best as they could; Pietro, Bruce, and Tony rushed her to the Quinjet while Wanda wrapped a thermal blanket around him and assured him that Natasha was stronger than all of them combined and would pull through like the fighter she was.

As Steve stood in the corner of the Quinjet and watched Bruce work on Natasha, panic and dread consumed him, battering his body and twisting his stomach. His knees gave out from underneath him, and he slid down the wall, burying his face in his hands as tears streamed down his cheeks once again. "I'm so sorry, Nat." He whispered between sobs that shook his shoulders.

 If only he had been better. 

He could've saved her, could've killed the man long before he got his hands on Natasha and pierced her with bullets. He should've never left her because soulmates were supposed to be together forever and because he loved her, because she was his entire world.

Because he should've been the man she deserved.

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