The mission was supposed to be quick. just a quick ambush mission on a rather large group of terrorists who were attacking a small village. Tony wasn't supposed to end up here, sobbing and desperately clutching at his husband's body trying to find a pulse while his son watched in horror. They weren't supposed to end up here, life slipping through their fingers like the devil himself was ripping it away from their grasp. How did they end up here then?
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They were in battle, and things were going pretty well as they took down the assailants. Peter had just joined the team as Spider-Man, Steve was fighting by his side and swinging his shield with breathtaking grace. It was all going well, until a sniper, that no one, not even Natasha saw coming, shot what sounded like fifty rounds. They were immediately struck off guard as the Avengers all whipped around to find where the shots came from. Tony and Sam instantly took to the air, searching for the sniper. Steve had grabbed Peter and moved him as far as possible from any potential sniper hiding spots.
“Careful Pete. I know you’re trained, but this is still your first big mission.” Steve said with a quick kiss on his son’s head. Then he was back in the center of the battle.
The terrorists had gotten the impression that Steve was the main leader (he kinda is, but they’re a team so, yeah), so they figured that if they took him down, they would surrender. The sniper, as ordered by his superior, precisely took aim and aligned his shot.
Steve looked up at a high building, where he made eye contact with a sniper who had his weapon pointed directly at him. He barely had the time to shout out “Get down!!” To everyone before a barrage of shots rang out. Natasha, Clint, Sam, Thor, Bruce, and Peter had taken cover, but Nat had her eyes open to see the blood immediately blossom on Steve’s suit in at least nine places.
Time itself seemed to slow down in this moment.
His body dropped to the ground with a sickening ‘thud’ as the dust puffed into the air from impact.
Nat gasped into the comms, “Steve is down, I repeat Steve is down!! Sam, get S.H.I.E.L.D Medical NOW.” She yelled frantically. She usually wouldn’t be as worried about Steve getting shot, being a super-soldier with amazing healing capabilities and all, but she had never seen him just fall like that after a blow. He would usually stagger back and regain his balance, using his hands to slow the blood loss, but this time he just collapsed. The sight was undoubtedly horrifying .
Peter gasped loudly from his sheltered spot with the rest of the Avengers, who had crowded around to protect him just in case. He immediately pushed through them and ran to his Pop’s side, dropping to his knees.
“No no no oh my god oh my god oh my god DAD!!!!!” He screamed, the tears welling in his eyes blurring the bloody massacre in front of him into a mess of blue and white, but mostly red. He grabbed frantically at his Pop’s blood stained suit, trying to find a pulse. Any evidence of life. Except there wasn’t that familiar, comforting and calming thumping of his heart. Peter’s blood ran cold.
“STEVE!! PETER!!!” The sound of Tony’s frantic voice came loud over the comms.
“Dad, Pop doesn’t have a pulse!!! Help help dad!!!!” Peter cried out.
Tony had, in a mess of panic flew up to the sniper in a split second and brought him down with one shot of his gauntlets. Faster than humanly possible, he landed on the ground and released himself from the suit, dropping to his knees next to Peter, instantly pulling him into his arms.
“Peter, Peter, oh my fuck no no no no Steve!!!” Tony was in such shock that he could barely breathe, on the brink of hyperventilating. He grasped Steve’s hand, shaking uncontrollably, tears welling up in his eyes as he tried to find his pulse. It was a futile effort. The tears that blurred his vision spilled over, and he began to sob quietly over his husband’s body. “Steve, Steve Steve oh my god no, no no no no you’re fine, you’re fine, please, wake up please WAKE UP!” His cries ran out through the battlegrounds like a gunshot. “Please, please…” He sobbed, his pleads getting weaker and weaker as his head hung over Steve’s body.
Nat, realizing that Peter shouldn’t have to see this, stood up and walked over to where Steve laid. She was silent, but placed a hand on Peter’s shoulder.
Peter seemed to immediately understand. “I don’t want to leave Dad and Pop Aunt Nat, I can’t leave them,” Peter whimpered. Natasha nodded her head.
“I know Pete. But your dad needs a moment, S.H.I.E.L.D Medical will be here soon and they need as much space as possible.” Peter listened and nodded hesitantly, letting her lead him away.
Tony, who had now fully hunched over Steve’s unmoving body, was desperately clutching his wrist for a pulse that wasn’t there and silently sobbing over his husband’s body. Peter could see his dad’s body heaving with sobs he tried to repress for Peter’s sake. He could faintly hear his dad’s cries as he walked with Aunt Nat. The Avengers, who had all stood up, watched the scene with mixed expressions. Natasha held Peter in a tight hug with a stoic expression on her face, Clint had his gaze directed towards the ground, not wanting to watch, his eyebrows knitted together in worry. Bruce had his fists clenched by his side, trying to keep it under control as he took deep breaths. Sam had a sorrowful expression on his face, though his eyes were glossed over and unreadable. Thor had his hands in crossed in front of his torso, a solemn look splayed across his face.
Tony’s throat and lungs felt like they were on fire. He was full-on hyperventilating now, air heaving in and out. He faintly heard the sound of the helicarrier above them, landing with a blow of dust about ten feet away from them. He heard the sound of Coulson and Maria stepping out of the helicarrier and the rest of the Avengers filling them in on what happened, all while boarding the aircraft.
Maria jogged towards Tony. She took in the scene; Steve with nine or ten bullet wounds, lying on the ground bleeding out; Tony hunched over him with his hands clutched in Steve’s uniform, whispering broken apologies for ‘not being fast enough’ and ‘not being there to cover you’. She approached slowly, knowing full well that Tony was not doing well at all (duh). She gently placed a hand on his shoulder, a silent sign that he needed to step back so the medics could get Steve boarded. It took Tony a moment to register what was happening, but as soon as he did, he nodded slowly and stood up. She gave him a sorrowful look.
“He’ll be fine, Tony. The medical team will take good care of him.” Tony nodded, but inside, he thought a bitter, “Yeah right. I just lost my husband.” Which only made him tear up more. Before he stepped onto the helicarrier, he turned to Maria. “Can I at least sit with him in the medical unit?”
She gave Tony a small, comforting smile. “Of course,” She said, gently patting him on the back.
Coulson then signalled for the medic team, a rather large group of people swarming Steve, getting him on the stretcher and carefully moving his body. Tony boarded also, walking as close as he possibly could be without crowding the medics. Once they got him on, even more people swarmed, getting him all hooked up to different monitors. Immediately they couldn’t find a pulse, so they prepared to defibrillate. Tony just sat in a chair nearby as he felt the familiar feeling of the helicarrier lifting off the ground and into the sky. He couldn’t feel anything at this point, he just watched in horror as a medic got it prepared, then yelled, “CLEAR.”
Steve’s body heaved a good five inches off the table before falling back down. Tony watched the heart monitor hopefully, praying to any god that was above to show something, anything, other than the empty, motionless line. The medics stood still for a second, watching the monitor, but nothing happened.
There was the high pitched noise of the defibrillator charging, then another “CLEAR” before they repeated the process. Once. Twice. Three times.
Tony thought he might pass out by the lack of oxygen he was getting into his lungs. He held his breath every time, “I can’t lose him, I can’t lose him, I can’t lose him” playing over and over in his mind like a mantra. The line stayed motionless.
The medical crew tried the best they could, but even they slowly started to lose hope after the tenth time. They all looked at Tony with sorrowful looks, and the Head Medic shook his head slowly and silently. They quickly filed out of the room to give Tony his space, and headed over to the main area where everyone else was seated. Tony died inside. He felt everything all at once, all the pain he had ever felt in his life, in the cave, being tortured, but this time it was one hundred times worse. He couldn’t process, he couldn’t think, he couldn’t breathe, he couldn’t live.
The last thing he remembered was the faint sound of the other Avengers running into the medical room, and how cold the floor felt when his unconscious body hit the ground of the helicarrier. They mainly came into the medical wing looking for Tony, because if they were all honest, even though they were all grieving and mourning in their own ways, everyone knew Tony would take it the hardest. They eventually found him, Natasha and Clint lifting him off the ground and moving him onto an empty treatment bed, before calling in the medical team again to make sure he was alright. The medics decided it was probably for the best to move Tony to another room, just in case he came to and saw his deceased husband lying a few feet away from him. The last thing they needed was more deaths today, good lord. They all sat in the chairs surrounding the treatment room.
Clint and Natasha were clinging to each other for comfort, a couple of tears making their way out of Natasha’s eyes here and there. Clint too. Bruce had to excuse himself to a secluded part of the helicarrier because if he was near people, there would probably be more casualties. Sam was pacing throughout the entire helicarrier, making calls and texts to their other teammates to inform them of the tragedy. He wished he didn’t have to of course, but he knew they had to know. Sam had called the tower to inform the rest of the Avengers that had stayed behind in New York to make sure no one destroyed the Earth while they were gone. Wanda was the first to hear about it. She gasped and started crying over the phone, to which Vision found out next. Rhodey was aghast. Pepper was horrified, but swore over the phone that she would make sure the media didn’t catch wind of this until Tony gave his consent. Scott couldn’t believe his ears. He numbly said “Ok thanks for telling me,” into the phone before going to his floor, tossing it across the room and putting his face into his hands. One by one, they were all informed, including T’Challa, who considered pulling Bucky out of cryo to inform him, but then decided strongly against it (Bucky doesn’t need any more trauma in his life JFC leave him out of this), and the more the news spread, the less real it felt.
Poor Peter didn’t even move from his spot in the corner of the main area, when he heard the news he just curled up into a ball and sobbed into his knees.
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Dark. It was really, really dark. He couldn’t tell where he was. All he remembered was pain ripping through him, then he was falling. He felt the electricity tear through him, once, twice, three times, four, five, six, then he lost count. He tried, tried so hard to move, wake up, breathe, but he couldn’t. Why? Where was he? Is this what death felt like? He decided not to think about it too much, but suddenly he was falling again. Falling, falling, further into the darkness. Endless.
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It had been roughly fifteen minutes since Tony lost consciousness, and Steve was officially pronounced dead. The medic team came in only a few minutes prior, just to remove all of the monitors and equipment, and give their condolences once again. It was silent, only the sounds of occasional hitching of breath and someone moving were audible.
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There was suddenly a light. Holy crap, that was freaking blinding. What the hell? He was getting closer to it, it was getting brighter. And brighter. And brighter. It continued until it was so bright, his eyes burned.
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Steve’s eyes suddenly shot open, and he leaped off the bed. Everyone around jumped a mile high, having the absolute SHIT scared out of them. They couldn’t believe their eyes, and Clint was the first one to break the silence.
“Steve?” He asked in disbelief, still blinking to make sure he wasn’t hallucinating.
“C-Clint,” He coughed, (he still had like, ten freaking bullets in him, mind you) then his eyes widened. Oh my lord. Tony. “Where’s Tony!” He panicked.
“STEVE OH MY FUCK YOU’RE ALIVE!!!!!” Clint screamed, loud enough so the whole helicarrier could hear. He barreled forward, about to give him a massive hug, but then decided on a pat on the back because, ten bullets. He then (still somewhat shakily) responded, “He’s in another room. He passed out after you were pronounced dead like, twenty minutes ago.”
Steve actually looked like he was about to go running out the door in search for Tony, but Clint read his face and immediately shut it down.
“Hell to the absolute fucking no, Rogers. You just came back from the fucking dead, you still have like ten bullets in you, and you’re even having a fleeting thought of leaving this bed? Not happening.”
Peter must have heard Clint scream from the other room, because he came running into the room, his face tear stained and eyes swollen. When he saw his Pop, sitting up and very much alive, he lost it. He burst into tears, running full speed to him, climbing onto the hospital bed and hugging his parent with every bit of energy he had left. He could hear the light, “oof” from Steve at the force of the impact, and the next thing he knew, he was sobbing happily as he felt his Pop’s arms tighten around him. He was warm, he was there, he was alive.
“I’m so, so sorry Petey,” He comforted his son as he pressed a kiss into his matted hair, “I’m here, I’m never leaving you. I could never leave you.” Peter’s laugh was watery and rough from the sobbing, but it was pure joy.
“Papa, Pops, Pop, you’re alive, oh my god oh my god you’re ALIVE!!!” Peter cheered and hugged him even tighter.
Natasha was speechless. So was Sam, but the look on Thor’s face could sum up all of their emotions. He was absolutely beaming, the happiness he felt was unlike any other. He too came barreling forward, clasping Steve (maybe a little too rough, but oh well) on the shoulder happily.
“Captain Rogers!!!” Thor bellowed with joy, “Such a surprise!! A sorrowful day was upon us, but now it has turned to a momentous celebration!!! I must get the Pop-Tarts!!”
Steve laughed. He saw Sam standing there, a hand covering his mouth. “Dude,” He finally said, “You gotta stop pulling this shit. You’re gonna kill us all.” He gave a watery chuckle, his mind crashing with relief, happiness, but most of all, joy.
Nat nodded her head in agreement. “I second. Jesus Christ Rogers, you go and fucking die on us, then come back from the dead and scare the absolute shit out of us? You’re lucky none of us died from an aneurysm.” She laughed, walking up to him and gently nudged his shoulder. “Glad you’re back.”
“Glad to be back,” Steve chuckled. He was so glad he had this amazing family to be here for him, even when he was “dead”.
Just then, the same crew of medics came flying into the room, and Peter decided to take a step back so the medics could do their thing. They were getting him all hooked back up on the machines, and Steve just let it happen, feeling somewhat relieved from the familiarity he felt when getting treated after a battle. Maria walked into the room and Steve saw her nudge Natasha. She nodded to her, then walked forward towards Steve.
“Captain Rogers,” She nodded with a beaming smile on her face.
“Agent Hill,” Steve acknowledged, smiling back. “And Steve is just fine, no need for formality.” He added.
“Glad to hear you are back from the dead.” She said, “I could say the same for you also, Maria is fine.” She smiled, placing her hand on his shoulder with a reassuring squeeze, and shuffled out of the way so the medics could begin removing the bullets. Coulson entered the room.
“Captain Rogers,” He smiled, nodding his head as well.
“Come on, Phil. You can call me Steve, you know that.” He jokingly replied.
Phil laughed in response. “Alright. Glad you’re still with us Steve, I can’t imagine trying to keep all of these clowns in line without your help and authority.” He smirked when he heard Clint go “Hey!” in the background. Steve laughed lightly. He would laugh harder, but he didn’t want to cause even more issues for the medics currently working on him.
About fifty minutes later, the medic team had finished patching Steve up. Turns out, the bullets weren’t only poisoned, but they were also fanned out on the sides (like barbs) so they were extra difficult to remove. His body had already started healing the wounds and had taken care of removing the poison from his blood stream, so he was up and walking around (more like limping, but understandably of course) in no time. He was anxiously waiting for his husband to come to. Christ, he caused Tony so much pain and grief that he passed out. Not that it was his fault, because it wasn’t, not even a little bit, but he still couldn’t wait to clear things us and show Tony that he was alive and well.
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It was roughly four hours later. Since waking up, Steve had taken a couple of naps in between pacing and sitting in the chair waiting for Tony to wake up. Peter never left his Pop’s side the entire time. They were sleeping in the chairs, Peter’s head rested on Steve’s shoulder, when there was a loud shuffling sound, followed by a groan.
Tony finally came to, eyes fluttering open one at a time. His vision was blurry, but as soon as he was able to focus, he realized he was staring at his husband and son, sleeping next to him. He was extremely confused, wondering if he had died and gone to heaven where Steve undoubtedly was. But, if that was the case, why was Peter here?
What the hell??
Tony’s heart rate jumped significantly, the monitor making enough noise to pull the pair from their sleep. Steve awoke with a startle, jumping in his seat and startling Peter as well.
Tears welled in Tony’s eyes. “Steve? Peter? Am I dead?”
Peter beamed and yelled, “Dad!!! You’re awake!!” Before running and jumping into his father’s arms. Tony was caught off-guard, but hugged him back. “What?” Poor Tony was seriously messed up after the things he experienced today. Geez, his husband has died in front of his very eyes, and now he’s standing right in front of him with their son by his side.
Steve smiled sadly. “Tony, you’re not dead sweetheart. And I’m not either.” He took some steps towards his bed.
“This has to be some sort of sleep paralysis or hallucination then. I watched you die, Steve. They defibrillated more than ten times and you never came back.” The tears slowly made their way down his face.
“Does this feel real?” Steve said quietly as he wrapped his arms around his husband and son, hugging them as if this was their last moment together as a family. Tony’s breath hitched. He instinctively wrapped his arms around them both, nuzzling into Steve’s shoulder.
“I’m so, so sorry I caused you so much grief,” Steve ran his fingers through the brown fluff of hair.
“It wasn’t your fault. I’m glad you’re here.” Tony was so uncharacteristically small and vulnerable, Steve couldn’t help but melt at how adorable he looked. He pressed kisses to Tony and Peter’s foreheads, a silent vow that he would never leave their sides. Even in death, he would be back.
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“Peter! Tony! Breakfast’s ready!” Steve called from the commons area, he was serving up breakfast to the other Avengers when he realized that the rest of his family hasn’t made an appearance yet.
Peter was the first to shuffle into the commons, looking like a hurricane had ripped through his room and blown his hair in every which way.
He groggily muttered a “Hey Pops,” as he made his way to sit on a bar stool.
‘God, he looks so much like his father,’ Steve thought endearingly as he flipped more pancakes onto the plates.
Tony was the last one to make his way into the kitchen. His hair, just like Peter’s, was swept in every which way, he was wearing what Steve swore was a shirt he had lost no less than six months ago, and some sweat pants.
“Good morning,” Steve said, taking in how beautiful Tony looked with a goofy smile plastered on his face. Tony just hummed and hugged his husband from the side, nuzzling into him.
“G’morning,” came the sleepy reply. Steve leaned down and pecked Tony’s forehead, bringing him along as he made his way to the dining table and placed about fifty pancakes in the center. Though that seemed like a lot, they might actually need more, judging by how the team normally eats.
Once he finally set the plate down, Clint groaned in impatience. “Finally, geez you sick lovebirds were taking forever in there.”
Tony rolled his eyes. “Oh whatever Bird Brain, I barely even said anything before we came over here. If you want, I’ll make sure to take all the time I want next time.” He smirked in casual Tony Stark fashion. Clint just stuck his tongue out at him.
The rest of the Avengers laughed at his childish gesture, and they spent the entire morning enjoying each other’s company. Steve looked around, his husband and son happy and right by his side, his family together and complete. Natasha, Clint, Sam, Thor, Bruce, Phil, Maria, Wanda, Vision, Rhodey, Tony, and Peter, all happy and healthy, alive and well.
For the first time in over seventy years, he was happy, he was content, and he was right where he needed to be. Though it was one crazy journey that wasn’t even close to ending yet, Steve knew that they were supposed to end up here, and hell, he wouldn’t have it any other way.