Back at it again with Nate. Because how could I not? Stark Sands has one of the absolute cutest smiles I have ever seen. Like my friend (who has never seen anything with Stark in it) and I spent last Friday fangirling over his smile alone. Just look at that gif. LOOK. What a cutie. Okay, spiel over, I just had to say that.
Gender neutral reader. Nate and the reader get separated from the group and need to wait it out in a town before they can make it back out to the battalion. Not canon compliant (doesn't involve scenes from the show, basically). Mentions of blood/injuries. Probably some curse words.
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"Let's go, let's go!" Lieutenant Fick's voice called out as everyone began running back to the humvees.
What started as a simple scouting mission had turned into an all-out mess. Everyone was getting shot at and officer incompetence is what got everyone here in the first place. Now, everyone was turning tail and trying not to get shot as they left the town.
And you would've made it out of town too, if it hadn't been for the shrapnel that had hit you in the leg. You grit your teeth and stifled cries of pain as you moved, trying to keep up. It was futile; the space between you and your team members grew bigger and bigger until eventually, the smoke you were running through got too thick to see through. You plowed ahead anyway, it was a clear line from where you were to the humvees. If nothing got in your way, you could--
A sudden explosion before you rocked the ground and blasted you off your feet. Dirt sprayed everywhere, landing haphazardly on anything and everything. You lay on your back, wheezing heavily and struggling to get up.
"I gotta get up." you muttered to yourself. "I gotta get up."
Cries of "(Y/N)!" broke through the sounds of exploding dirt and buildings. You called out in reply, hoping that your voice wasn't too weak and drowned out in the sound of explosions.
Your hopes were answered when you heard rocks crunching beneath boots, and a tentative hand tapped where your leg was hit, another hand grasping your hand reassuringly.
"(Y/N), come on. We gotta get outta here. Think you can get up?" Nate's faint voice broke through the ringing in your ears.
Another explosion shook the earth and Nate instinctively pulled you closer to him, his arms wrapping protectively around your head and your waist. Had it been any other situation, you would have blushed, but you were too loopy on blood loss to notice anything except for the sprays of dirt and shrapnel and sounds of things getting blown up. Oh, and the dull throb that seemed to beat steadily in your leg, too.
"Yeah." you replied as soon as the dirt settled. "Yeah, I can get up. I can get up. Gimme a hand."
Nate pulled you up as you hopped up on your good leg, his arm snaking around your waist to support you as you steadied yourself.
"I saw a building around the corner that was mostly intact." you yelled over the din.
Nate nodded and the two of you began the trek to the building in question. It was slow progress, and every minute spent on the way to the building was a minute that the either of you could get hit.
By the luck of the gods, you made it to the building and hobbled through the crumbling doorway with Nate making sure you didn't fall. He set you against the far wall, next to the window. He settled next to you, not seeming to notice he was still holding your hand.
You leaned your head back against the wall, letting out a small sigh of relief. You were safe from the bullets right now, but there was no saying if the house you were currently sitting in was going to be shot to pieces later.
"Hey, your leg." Nate brought your attention back to your wound.
Now that the moment's adrenaline was slowly dissipating, the dull ache you felt earlier became a stronger, spiking pain.
"It didn't hit the main artery, at least." you remarked, pulling out some spare bandages from a pocket. Your fingers were shaking so much that Nate handed you his canteen and ordered you to drink, finishing tying off the bandage himself. You hummed in thanks as you took a sip, your fingers growing slack when you handed the bottle back to him.
"You're already growing hazy on me." he chuckled. "Come on, keep your eyes open."
You paused a moment before speaking again.
"Is your comm damaged? Why hasn't anyone called in yet?" you shook your head, trying to keep your vision clear. "We gotta get moving. Why--"
"(Y/N), I don't think you're--"
"No, I'm fine, Nate. Help me up."
Before you or Nate could get up, the sound of a bullets peppering the building echoed in the empty town. The building shook, plaster and drywall crumbling and settling on you. You grit your teeth and made to get up, but a second barrage of bullets began hitting the walls and everything began crumbling down in chunks.
Nate threw himself around you, much like he had done in the street earlier. He tucked your head under his chin--you were surprised that your head fit there nicely--and clutched you tightly, as if letting go would make you disappear. You couldn't do much but shut your eyes grasp his arm, a reassuring note that you weren't alone and that you were going to make it out alive.
As soon as the bullets stopped, you didn't immediately separate. You stayed attached to Nate's arm, while he stayed wrapped protectively around you. Nothing but the sound of hard breathing filled the silence. You relaxed into Nate, eyes still closed. The both of you were alive, that's all that mattered right now.
You were the first one to move. You let go of Nate's arm--reluctantly--and looked up at his unreadable expression. A mix of everything, it seemed like. You shook your thoughts away and hoisted yourself up and grabbed Nate's arm to help him up.
"We should be safe for now." you remarked as you leaned against Nate for support, grimacing and breathing in sharply when bolts of pain shot up your leg and through your side.
"You hold me, I hold you." he told you as his arm looped around your waist again.
"Yeah." you smiled softly at the horizon.
Later, as you were sitting in the back of Nate's vehicle with your leg properly taken care of, you leaned forward when he leaned his head back, clearly exasperated and exhausted. You reached for his hand, gently grasping it as you rested your chin on the shoulder of his seat and repeated the words he told you earlier.
"You hold me, I hold you."
He smiled softly and gripped your hand tighter.