Collapsed Building, Running out of time, Buried Alive (sort of)
Steve! Watch out!”
Steve barely has time to raise his shield over his head as the building falls down around him. He does his best to run, but there’s not much he can do.
“Steve!” He hears in his comm, just as something clips his shield, knocking him back. Twisting and rolling, he does what he can to avoid being hit. Eventually something manages to get him just right, taking his legs out from under him. He hits his head against the ground, but curls under his shield, doing his best to prevent any additional injuries.
It feels like an eternity before the building settles. Once it has, Steve tries to take stock of himself, assess the damage.
He’s definitely going to be covered in bruises. Some of them are already making themselves known. His right leg was sticking out from under his shield, and is currently trapped under something. It’s certainly going to be broken. He’s grateful for the adrenaline that’s keeping him from feeling it at the moment. Something is poking into his back, and if he looks around, he can see a wall leaning over him.
Tentatively, he tries to move the shield a little. That causes the wall leaning over him to shift, and he stops.
Steve curses.
He’s not sure how long he’ll be able to hold up the concrete wall. But he absolutely does not want it falling on him. Nor does he like the idea of being stuck here for who knows how long.
He rests his left arm, the one holding the shield, against his side, wincing as his body protests the additional weight. Glancing directly upward, he can only see the shield, rather than the damage he was looking for. He shakes his head, using his right arm to touch his comm. It's not there.
Cursing, he looks around himself, hoping without hope that it's on the ground beside him.
It's not.
His head starts feeling fuzzy, and he tries to take in some deep breaths to prevent panic from setting in.
The adrenaline has finally worn off and all his aches begin to make themselves known.
His lower leg is definitely broken. He wonders if there's something wet down by that leg or if it's just going numb from pain.
The woozy feeling doesn't go away.
He looks around again and can see a small strip of light. He can't see where it's coming from, but he's certain it's daylight.
He blinks and it changes. It's further away now, as if the sun had gone down.
He curses again.
And again, when he realizes the wet cold feeling has spread up his leg, and looking down reveals a pool of blood spreading.
It also explains the persistent woozy feeling.
He breathes deeply, willing his heart rate to remain slow and steady. Panicking will make things worse.
He yells as loud as he can, hoping someone will hear and call back. After yelling for a minute, Steve waits and listens.
No reply.
He tries again. Steve loses count of how many times he calls for help. But the strip of sun is no longer in his field of vision, and the shield pressed into his side is now painful rather than annoying.
Blinking slowly, he rests his head against the ground. He's so tired.
He closes his eyes, deciding to rest, just for a moment.
Going limp into unconsciousness, he misses the voice calling out to him.
"Steve!"
