Chapter Text
“Captain.”
Something was wrong, Steve could tell in the tone of voice that was addressing him - Falsworth, but not, they’d picked up some other English soldier along the way, then. He must have taken a pretty good hit to the head, which explained why he was having such a hard time opening his eyes-
“Steven.”
“Oh,” Steve said. Thor was peering down at him, sweat glistening from his forehead - and there were deep creases there, and a look of concern that Steve hadn’t seen since...New York, since Loki.
Steve blinked to get the moisture out of his eyes. It had to be from all of the debris in the air. Wherever they were, it was dark - and then he remembered, slowly, the bomb, and how Hulk had run towards it but was a few seconds short. Then there was a bright light, the distinct taste of blood in his mouth, darkness, coughing, choking...
Steve moved to sit up and his stomach seemed to process what was going on before his head did, because he was fighting the urge not to vomit before he realized why. “I can’t...my legs...” he said, and waved his hand towards them. At least it worked.
“Aye,” Thor said, leaning back and then standing over him. “I am not surprised from the hit you took from the falling building. But, fear not - it shall heal in time.”
Steve nodded - but how could Thor be certain? He’d clearly damaged his spine, and what was that for an Asgardian? A god? Steve felt his chest tighten, a familiar embrace that then became a constraint...and Thor’s face, it indicated that he wasn’t certain about what he had said, either, and that he thought it was probably the best thing to say at the moment.
“I shall summon Mjolnir to-”
“No!” Steve said, and Thor bent down closer to him, face concerned again. “I mean, it will be able to come through all of this, right? And it might break whatever is holding up the pocket that we’re in.”
“Yes,” Thor said, and he sat down next to Steve. “You’re right - I should have thought through my actions. Impulsive, of course.” He snorted.
“Is your comm still working?” Steve asked, and he was finally able to get his arms behind him so that he could at least pull himself up and bend at the waist. There was a pain blooming in his chest, as well, and he wondered for a brief, terrified moment if the serum had stopped working.
He glanced down at his legs - still attached, still the shape he remembered. He almost laughed, because Bucky had once insisted, when he was drunk, that they should cut off his pinky toe to see if it would grow back. Or how long it would take. Surprised Howard hasn’t suggested it, Bucky said, and Steve had lightly punched him.
That’s probably what they would have done to you in that lab, wherever Phillips wanted to send you, he thought. They would have poked and prodded him and figured out all of his secrets. He hadn’t necessary enjoyed being on-stage and traveling with twenty-odd dames - they were a lot messier than he had ever thought dames could be - but it certainly beat that fate.
“Tony says that he, Hulk, and SHIELD are working diligently to extract us,” Thor said, and Steve had to shake his head to pull him out of the dream - well, nightmare. “They have some image of where we are located.”
“Body heat,” Steve said, and, remembering how bitter Thor had sounded with his previous comment, so he added, “and it wasn’t impulsive - well, it was, but you just wanted...”
“Thank you,” Thor said. He glanced off to the side, and Steve did as well, not really sure what else to say. They had got along, these past two weeks when Thor had been in New York. He’d just returned from Asgard and then New Mexico.
Thor had been upset the first few days when he returned, and it took Clint, of all people, to get it out of him that his relationship had ended with Jane Foster. After that, though, he had a less melancholy demeanor, though Steve could still see there was hurt underneath. Steve didn’t entirely blame her. When dating someone meant that you could be put in a position where his psychopath brother...still, Steve had tried to be sympathetic when he spoke to Thor. Plus he was glad to have someone else around who seemed to understand less about twenty-first century Earth than Steve did. Someone who would actually try and figure things out with Steve instead of looking at him like he was some younger brother they had to bring along with them yet again.
“I actually, uh...” Steve laughed without finishing the thought, because wouldn’t that figure? Super serum gets rid of whatever of his myriad problems would have killed him, he survives WWII and then getting frozen in Arctic ice for seventy years, and he was going to be paralyzed in a building collapse.
Thor cocked his head, a thoughtful expression on his face.
“I mean, I don’t know if...this will get better.” There was the constriction, the tightness that had been building. He tried to inhale deeply and felt his lungs protest - how was he having an asthma attack?
“Your other wounds heal in time,” Thor said, then frowned. “I fear that part of the problem may be my fault. Clint told me I was not to move you, but I could not leave you face down amongst the rubble.” His eyes widened slightly, and he looked a little bit like a puppy - one that had made a mess and really didn’t want you to yell at it.
Steve shrugged - it couldn’t have made that much of a difference. “You’re right. I guess, it’s just...legs. Sort of important.” Thor nodded. “Did they tell you how long..?”
Thor touched at the comm inside his ear. “Tony? Agent Coulson?” Steve could hear a scratching sound and then the tinny sound of Stark from inside the suit, though the volume was turned down considerably to account for Thor’s hearing so Steve couldn’t make out the words. “Aye, Steve is conscious. He wonders how long until you are able to affect our rescue?...I see, yes, thank you.” He touched his ear again, then said to Steve, “Ten to twenty minutes, Tony estimates, though Agent Coulson is more conservative.”
“Well, with Hulk flinging shit around I’m sure Tony’s closer,” Steve said. Hulk listened to all of them, these days, but he was still closest and most responsive to Tony. Made sense, of course, Tony was the probably the only person Bruce had met since his transformation that knew about what had happened to him and treated him just like any other person. Well, treated him like how Tony Stark would treat any other person. Steve wished he had treated Bruce better - he had done a decent enough job, when he had met him on the deck of the Helicarrier, but as soon as Tony had jabbed him with whatever it was that he probably brought explicitly for the purpose, Steve had just thought of the potential consequences. “Sorry,” Steve said, realizing Thor was looking at him.
“For what?”
“I just, sort of...drifted off there,” Steve said.
“It is understandable,” Thor said. “You were unconscious for a period of time.”
Steve had not had that happen before, and he grimaced, wondering exactly how much of the building had fallen on him. Probably all of it. “Normally, I’d say you shouldn’t let me fall back asleep...” Thor cocked his head. “That’s what you do, for, uh, normal people. When they get concussions. I had some medical training - we all did, in the Army...” he laughed, but it was a stilted, chocked thing.
“They will be upon us in no time,” Thor said, and he reached forward and put one of his hands on Steve’s shoulder. Steve wasn’t sure why it made him shiver. Maybe because he didn’t anticipate it - that it would be so intimate - or that Thor’s hand was so comfortable and so large. It was a lot like how Bucky’s hand used to feel. “Captain, you need to relax.”
“Relax?” Steve asked, almost barked.
“Aye,” Thor said, “I have had that feeling many times before, the sense of panic that leads to a physical manifestation such that you are having.” He paused, and then glanced at Steve.
This reminds me, of a time when a cave collapsed on the Lady Sif and I when we were pursuing a dragon-”
“Dragon?” Steve asked.
“We were young, then, and it seemed to be a good way to occupy our time.”
“You went after a dragon because you were bored?”
Thor gave him a large, comforting smile and then shrugged. Steve supposed he and Bucky had got up to some pretty stupid things themselves - and it wasn’t as though the Commandos had always used the most practical methods of accomplishing their goals.
“It was a similar situation to that which we are currently in, though the cave in was fortunate as it protected us from further damage from the beast. We were a bit out matched.” Steve had no idea how long ago this had happened, but Thor still seemed a bit chagrined by it. “I may have fought out, but Sif cautioned me against it - it would not have been a valiant death for a warrior.”
“Death? But I thought-”
“On Midgard, perhaps,” Thor said. “But in the other realms, with other creatures, we Aesir are vulnerable - my father lost an eye to a Jotun.” Steve nodded, and tried to pull himself up a little further and groaned, still unable to feel anything below his navel - he never thought he would want pain, even searing, debilitating pain, but things had come full circle, it seemed.
Thor continued to talk about how he and Sif conceived of getting out of the cave - and really, it did sound like some story Steve would have read as a child - but all he could do was try and work calculations he had never been bothered with before. Tony, Bruce, they probably could have come up with some rate of healing based on the grievousness of the injury and would tell him exactly when he could expect his spine to start piecing itself back together, but he wasn’t any good at constructing those kinds of formulas.
Steve felt his breath hitch and tighten further. Goddamnit, he thought, though if relaxing was what he needed, he definitely wasn’t in a good environment for it.
“The more you think of it, the more it will distress you,” Thor said, voice even. He had moved a little closer to Steve and he had his head cocked to the side slightly.
“I know, it’s just...” Steve waved his hands at his legs. “Sort of useful, you know. Necessary, for the line of work I’m in, and...” he gulped and made an undignified hiccuping noise. Do not cry in front of Norse god, he told himself. In front of Thor.
Rationally, he knew that it was a panic attack - well, he’d known as soon as Thor had pointed it out - but he couldn’t help but recall endless days from his childhood where his mother hovered over him. They’d thought asthma was a mental illness then, though, and the one doctor had suggested it had something to do with bad mothering. Steve had kicked him from the exam table and his mother didn’t even try and hide her smile.
“You attempt to construct some formula to reassure yourself?” Thor asked.
Steve nodded, and not that he thought Thor was dumb - he was just so...Thor, sometimes, you forgot behind either the stoic warrior or the genial companion, there was real intelligence. “Yeah,” he said. “But I just...I’ve never been hurt like this before.”
Thor edged a little closer to him and nodded. “There was a time I fought a mastodon - you know of them?” he asked, when Steve raised his eyebrows. “Tall, furred beasts with a prehensile nose and destructive tusks?” Steve nodded, and almost wanted to giggle, because for a moment, he thought Thor had said pehensile, and it brought him back to the morning when Thor had stumbled out into the shared living space in the Tower, completely naked. Apparently that was what you did on Asgard, when you wanted to get some milk. Steve had blushed and then laughed as Tony pointed it out. He had been in the Army, it wasn’t like he hadn’t seen...but it was just so unexpected...
“I thought it was nothing but a trifle,” Thor continued. “And before I knew it, the beast used its tusks to thrust me against a wall. It gored me and trampled me before the Warriors Three could come to my aid. It was the first time in a long while I thought I might be headed for Valhalla. My mother and the best healers in Asgard attended to me, and I could see in their eyes, even with their skill, they were not sure whether I would heal. It was the first time I was truly frightened,” Thor said. “Then I forgot this in my arrogance. I had to learn that lesson again.”
Steve nodded. Thor was closer to him, now, and Steve moved so he could face him. He winced as he did it, feeling something stab deep into the center of him. A good sign? he wondered. “Lean forward, Captain,” Thor said, and Steve winced again, following the command. Thor wrapped an arm around him to support him, and Steve settled against it, amazed at the size of it.
He could feel things stretch and burn that he really shouldn’t. He hadn’t really felt pain like that since he’d been defrosted - and there had to be a better word, it made him sound like he was a microwave meal.
“Your wound appears to have changed slightly in countenance,” Thor said, after a long moment where he must have been appraising Steve’s back.
“Wound?” Steve asked. Of course there was a wound, but he felt like this should have maybe been explicitly pointed out.
Thor nodded, and grimaced slightly. “Clint and Tony encouraged me not to tell you about it. They thought it would only alarm you further.”
“More than...” Steve couldn’t conceive of that. But then he remembered that when Thor had got the advice Steve had been passed out and Thor hadn’t known that Steve’s legs didn’t work - Steve didn’t dare think the other word for it. “No, it’s actually reassuring, that...there’s a reason.”
“I apologize, Steve,” Thor said. “One can see much of your anatomy.”
Steve nodded again, and he couldn’t really think of it - well, he could, he had plenty of images that he could populate his imagination with. There had been so many battlefields littered with the dead, the dying, the bleeding...limbs with hints attached to them of where they came from, heads inside helmets. They were easier than a lot of the bodies, though, probably because you could imagine that someone had died quickly from the trauma and the blood loss. With the bodies, though, you could see how long and painful it had probably been.
Steve felt a little nauseous, thinking about it. “OK,” he said.
“I know little of how mortals work,” Thor added.
“Well, neither do I, really, anymore,” Steve said. He swallowed, and Thor met his eyes and held them for a long period before putting a hand on his shoulder again. “You’re not...we’ve all been arrogant, you know.”
“I have a hard time imagining that of you, Captain,” Thor said.
“I was, the day that Bucky died,” Steve said. “He was in my unit, but we had been friends since we were fourteen. Best friends, actually, and...I thought we could handle everything. I forgot how vulnerable we were, and he fell.” Steve had to look away, immediately recognizing the parallel. “It was a long time ago...but it wasn’t, for me.”
“Aye,” Thor said, and then he pressed a hand to his ear. “Tony says that they are rather close. Hulk is particularly effective. Yes, he is doing well, Tony. Tony wants me to assure you there is medical attention waiting for you.”
“Oh, tell him...” Steve said. He didn’t want anyone risking their lives, entering the unstable structure, for him. He wasn’t dying.
He remembered the first time he had really been wounded, when he had been shot five times - and there was blood everywhere, but by that evening everyone was checking him over and marveling at his capabilities. Steve had wondered, that night, what it would be like if he lived centuries and everyone was left behind. He didn’t have to worry about that, anymore, though, he already knew what that was like. Still, there was a difference between living it and being frozen for it, and Steve had no clue how all of that entered the calculus. For all Erksine had told him about the serum, he didn’t really mention anything about extended life span - so it was possible, maybe, that Steve’s wouldn’t be, but somehow he doubted it.
“Steve?” Thor asked.
“When I was younger,” Steve said, “everything with my health was...wrong, and then I went to being like this and I think I overlooked some things.”
Thor put a hand on his shoulder and nodded his head. Then both of them turned in the direction of sound that quickly grew in intensity.
“Hulk,” Thor said, and Steve nodded. After a few more distinct grunting sounds, some light began to pour into the tiny space that they were in. Steve inhaled and was able to take in gasoline, dust, burning plastic and a lot of other odors that he associated with the battle in New York.
Both of them looked up and saw Tony’s mask peering in, and Steve realized that Thor’s hand was still on his shoulder. He was glad that he didn’t have to see Tony’s expression. “So,” Tony said, “how was your bottle episode?” Beside him, Hulk grunted, though he was obscured by the debris.
Tony hovered over them as he continued working from inside the chamber. Steve and Thor ceased speaking to each other, but Tony took up the slack and chattered enough that Steve didn’t have to think about what was happening. Once they had cleared a large enough exit, Thor turned and nodded at Steve, finally removing his hand. “How are you feeling, Captain?” It felt so much more formal and stilted, and Steve somehow felt...he couldn’t really quantify it, but he missed the previous tone Thor had taken with him.
Steve concentrated, attempting to wiggle his toes - not even sure if that was the best way to go about things. It didn’t matter - there was no result, and so he shook his head at Thor.
“Be still,” Thor said, and then foisted Steve up as though he were picking up a small child, no, as if he were picking up Steve as he used to be. He held him, bridal style, and Steve sent a sharp look in Tony’s direction. Tony lifted both his hands in the air as if to ask, who, me? “You might be more comfortable were you to drape an arm around my neck.”
“Uh, right,” Steve said, and he could feel a blush rising in his cheeks. “Where’s Hulk?” Tony walked in front of Thor as they went through the hole.
“Went off to re-Banner,” Tony said. “Clint went with him, since he had the foresight to bring some pants.”
“Oh, right,” Steve said, weakly. “Glad someone thought about that, uh, exigency.” During their last fight in Manilla Thor had to donate his cape to the cause, even though they’d already dealt with the same problem in New York.
“There’s a stretcher right outside, Pikachu,” Tony said. “Might want to try and get Cap on it pretty fast so no one thinks you’re carrying him over the threshold?”
“What?” Thor asked, and Steve shifted slightly at the mention of photographers - in New York, most of the shots had come from the cell phones of people caught in the middle of the battle - but professionals had actually turned up in Manila. Clint had been pretty pleased to become an Internet sensation because one photographer had a thing for his backside.
“There’s photographers,” Steve said.
“It is understandable you do not wish to be immortalized in this condition,” Thor said. “Perhaps Tony could provide cover as well.”
“Sure,” Tony said, “I’ll light fireworks.”
Just before they were about to step out, Thor adjusted Steve, and Steve removed his arm from around Thor’s neck and felt himself swallow. His throat suddenly felt thick - and it wasn’t like they he hadn’t had to carry Natasha after she broke her ankle, but it almost seemed like he was letting people down, getting injured like this. “Be still,” Thor said. “My arm is quite close to the open wound.”
SHIELD had established a fairly large perimeter. The stretcher was literally right outside of the hole in the debris, and Thor lifted Steve and delicately set him down on it. Steve was a little surprised at how softly he handled him - he always associated Thor with brute strength and force, but he was almost overly cautious. Steve winced when his back hit the stretcher, and a SHIELD doctor was beside him almost instantly.
“How is your pain level, Captain?” he asked, and Steve glanced over at Thor as two paramedics whisked his stretcher to a very close Quinjet. His face was somber, disturbed, and Steve had to look away.
“I’m fine, I don’t need anything,” he said. Steve was relieved when Natasha was next to him, brow knit together in concern. “I’m OK,” he said, but Natasha took his hand and squeezed it. She seemed surprised by this, herself - it wasn’t as though Steve would characterize the two of them as friends. When Natasha was in the Tower she was visible about as much as the spider her codename came from.
“Can you feel this?” Another doctor asked, at his feet, and Steve opened his mouth but his tongue felt like sand paper. He shook his head, instead, and felt disorientated. Everything smelled like it was burning, and he was pretty sure that he had been in the city that they were in before but much longer ago.
“I need to-” he began, and Natasha let his hand fall and moved backwards. She seemed to be the only one who understood what he was saying, doctors and nurses were buzzing around him and asking questions and seemed oblivious to him - even though he was their patient. Well, they were oblivious until he threw up. More of a dry heave, really, because his metabolism was compounded by the fight and he literally had nothing in him. “I’m sorry.”
“You’re fine,” one of the nurses said as they rolled him up the ramp of the Quinjet. Steve was relieved that Clint wasn’t behind the wheel - he didn’t need to be some spectacle. Not that any of his teammates would treat it like that, Steve knew that they were concerned, but they couldn’t help but turn it into one. Captain America falls, Captain America is broken... he knew how it worked, how it had since the beginning, had accepted that he was a symbol of something bigger than himself. That was what he had signed up for, after all. But there had always been at least one or two people - Bucky, Peggy - that he could count on to always see him as Steve, no matter what.
Steve sighed and then watched as several nodes and pads were hooked up to him to monitor his vital signs. “I’m fine, I just-”
“We need to move you to the side, Captain,” said one of the doctors. “We need to get a look at the wound - it would not be good for it to heal over any debris-”
“Oh God,” Steve said, remembering one of the things that he had tried very desperately not to. Shrapnel and bits of building had embedded in his abdomen somewhere outside of Paris and he had carried on without thinking about it. Surgery had to be performed later when someone caught sight of him disrobing - Gabe, he wanted to say, but he couldn’t recall, and that only increased his panic. This time, though, there didn’t seem to be an issue with keeping the wound open long enough to pull the biggest pieces out. This frightened Steve most of all.
He was relieved to see Natasha crouching next to him. “We can lift off,” someone said.
“Thank you,” Steve said to Natasha. She nodded at him.