After spending all day in the medbay waiting for Steve to come out of surgery, you were exhausted. Sam tried forcing you to get some rest but you refused, sticking by his side all night, hoping and praying for a miracle. You felt your chest ache with guilt.
You were the reason why he was currently lying unconscious in a hospital bed. It was you who caused him to end up like this.
Eventually you’re too exhausted to continue. After fifty-two consecutive hours of staying awake, both counting before and after the mission, you allowed Bucky to take you back to your room, gently laying you down in bed and pulling the covers over you.
You could’ve knocked out for two hours or two days. It was 3 a.m. when you came to and you found yourself craving some coffee now that you were unable to fall back asleep. Sliding your feet into your slippers, you padded down the hallway. You paused in the middle of the kitchen when you saw someone approaching.
“Y/N?”
“Steve? What the hell are you doing awake right now? You should be in bed, resting. ”
Steve’s jaw clenched as he watched you for a long moment, silent. He looked almost too good to be true, standing there in his grey sweats and black, long-sleeved shirt with the sleeves rolled up, displaying his toned and muscular forearms. You could make out hints of dried blood staining the bandages around his torso - and quickly looked away. You didn’t need another reminder of what had happened. You were guilt-tripping yourself enough already.
“Are you brave or are you stupid?” were the first words out of your mouth after several moments of awkward silence.
“I was just doing my job, Y/N. How is that stupid?”
“Because you almost got yourself killed,” you gritted your teeth. “Your job was not to almost die out there, Captain.”
“Well then, if you’re so insistent, then I’m sorry-”
“I want an explanation, not an apology.”
“Fine,” he sighed crossing his arms over his chest. “I’ll make this short and simple. There was a guy ready to shoot you. You were busy fighting off another guy. He shoots, you die. I can’t just let that happen when I know I’m capable of preventing your death, so I jump in and take the hit for you.”
“And you almost died, Steve.”
“So what if I did? At least I’d die knowing your life was spared. Isn’t that enough?”
“‘So what if I did?’ Are you fucking serious?” He visibly bristles at your harsh tone. “What is it with your completely blatant disregard for your own safety? I can’t - if you actually died, I don’t-”
“Y/N, it was for the best. The least you can do is be grateful-”
“No,” you hissed, “I don’t think you understand. What if you actually died? How do you think I’d feel? I don’t even wanna think about how I’d feel if that happened. If you died, then the blame is all on me because I was the reason behind it. I don’t know if I can live with that. I can’t- I can’t lose you. I’m terrified of losing you, I was scared shitless and I thought you were gone for good and I - I thought I’d never be able to see you again. My biggest fear has always been losing those I cared about and for one horrifying moment…I thought it had come true.”
Your chest was heaving as you finished, heart beating so fast it was difficult to take in a breath without feeling faint. You felt your eyes sting with tears but quickly blinked them back. You weren’t about to cry in front of him, but your attempts proved futile when you felt those tears slipping down your cheeks. You balled your hands into fists and bit your bottom lip.
His bright blue eyes wistfully looked straight into yours, making you feel as if you would pass out at any moment. The way he seemed to stare deep into your soul, the way he gazed at you with a softened look in his features that made you weak at the knees.
“Why are you looking at me like that?” you questioned. “Stop looking at me with that- just stop.”
“Like what?”
“Like you care. Stop looking at me like you care about me. Stop doing that.”
“I do care,” he murmured lowly. “Y/N, I did it because I care about you.”
“You…you what?”
“If it were you who had taken that hit, and not me, you would’ve died on the spot.”
“You dropped your job just to take a bullet for me. You compromised your own safety just to take a bullet for me. You compromised the entire team’s safety. You willingly risked the lives of millions for one person. Why?”
“Because it’s not just one life…it’s yours.”
A broken sob escaped your lips. “Who am I to you that you’d put your life on the line for me?”
“My everything.”
You froze. Surely you hadn’t heard him right. He was joking. He was lying. He couldn’t possibly be telling the truth. He didn’t actually care.
But the look in his eyes told you otherwise.
He took a step forward and his hand moved to the nape of your neck as the other rested on the small of your back, pulling you closer as your heart raced at what had to be at least a million miles per hour. It was quite ironic - an Avenger who could handle almost everything thrown her way, was weakened by love?
Before you knew it your lips were centimeters apart - so close that you could feel his breath against your neck as he hovered above you - and you’re pretty sure that your heart just stopped.
Then finally, he closed the gap between you and gently pressed his lips to yours. Instead of the explosive feeling of fireworks or your stomach doing somersaults, a bubbly feeling began spreading from your head all the way down to your toes. It tasted of your tears and hell, his tears, too, your heartbreak and guilt and his heartbreak and you felt weightless, like were drifting through open space, and the only thing keeping you fully tethered to Earth was the feeling of his lips on yours and his hands on your hips. With the touch of his lips, you were home. He was your home.
But as soon as he pulled away, you grabbed the hem of his shirt and tugged him back towards you to kiss him a second time, unwilling to let go of him just yet.
If it weren’t for having to take a breath of air, you most likely would have gone on all night. And even when you did pull apart, he was reluctant to do so - the last time he let you out of his sight, he almost lost you.
It was a silly fear to have, but he couldn’t help but feel a burning obligation to take you under his wing and hold you tight, and keep you safe here in his arms. Fearing for your safety and wellbeing was almost second nature. It was a primary instinct of his to always check up on you and make sure you were safe - he’d been doing so ever since you first met.
He didn’t have to ask you to know you’d stayed by his side the entire time, crying and crying for hours on end until your throat felt too scratchy and sore from sobbing hysterically. He knows, he knows what he did was going to upset you but in that moment, he knew he had to do something as there was nothing between you and the bullet, and he dove into the crossfire headfirst without a second thought.
Because if things ever came down to it, he’d willingly die if it meant you got to live.
“I’m so sorry,” he murmured, burying his face into your hair. “I promise you I’m not going anywhere this time…Darling, don’t cry…I’m so sorry.”
You squeezed your eyes shut, pressing your forehead against his broad shoulder as you willed yourself not to break down a second time.
“I love you. You don’t have to say it back…I just wanted you to know. And that’s why I’d die before letting anything happen to you. Because I love you more than anything.”
“You really think I wouldn’t say it back? You idiot,” you muttered. “I love you too.”
Steve let out a shuddering sigh, hugging you even tighter. “I love you so much.”
“I know.”
(Yes, he did understand that reference.)