Archangel

Five

"Welcome, Captain Rogers", Friday's pleasant voice greeted.

Shivering, Steve stepped into the QuinJet with a semi-concious Angel in his arms.

"Friday, turn the heat up", he demanded. Gingerly, he laid Angel across the seats lining the side of the aircraft. Steve's expression was grave as he inspected her shaking form- she would not last long without medical intervention. He began to frantically search the jet, praying that it was stocked with sufficient medical supplies.

"Friday", he asked, "Are there any medical supplies in here?"

"Directly behind the cockpit, you can find a first aid kit in the overhead compartment".

He eagerly opened the compartment to find a white box the size of a small suitcase.

"Thank God", he whispered fervently, kneeling in front of Angel as he sorted through the box. Triumphantly he brought out several packages of Ace wraps and bandages. He then pulled back the wet jacket from her body, wincing at the amount of blood that streamed from her thigh. She whimpered softly and tried to reach for the jacket to re-cover herself.

"So c-cold", she stammered.

Gently he rested his arm on hers to stop her from moving.

"I know", Steve comforted. "I'm just going to tie some more bandages around your leg to stop the bleeding. Is that alright?".

Remembering his training from the army, he didn't take off the old bloody wrappings- just tied more over the top a bit tighter this time. It was important to maintain pressure on the wound. Satisfied with his work and seeing that no blood was seeping through, Steve turned to look at Angel's pale face.

"Is it too tight?", he asked quietly.

She shook her head and closed her eyes as she continued to shiver.

Steve frowned and placed a hand on her forehead. She should be getting warmer after getting out of the cold.

"Hey, Angel, I need you to keep your eyes open for me, ok?". She groaned and opened her eyes just a fraction.

He glanced towards the ceiling. "Friday, could you take her temperature?"

"Of course Captain Rogers. Her bodily temperature is currently at 89 degrees Fahrenheit. Would you like for me to state the protocol for hypothermia? With her blood loss, dehydration, and malnutrition, this level of hypothermia can be fatal".

"Shit", he muttered worriedly, running a hand through his short blond hair. "Yes, please".

Steve listened intently as Friday read the instructions. First, he carefully rolled Angel over to strip off her blood-soaked jacket and shorts, leaving her in a small white tank top and black undergarments. He then took several portable heating packets and placed them under her armpits and on her chest, noticing how shallow her breaths had become.

The door to the QuinJet opened suddenly and he braced himself in front of her body as the cold blew in. Natasha, Clint, Bucky, and the two men from the bunker walked in, stomping the ice from their boots and taking off their snow gear. They sighed in relief at the warmth of the jet.

"Thank God you're here! Nat, I could use your help", Steve exclaimed.

As Nat rushed over, Bucky tossed Micah and the Doctor into the back corner of the jet, cuffing their wrists and gagging them.

Angel's chest began to heave as she caught sight of the Doctor.

"N-no", she protested weakly. "Please no!".

Bucky quickly stepped in front of the two men, blocking them from her sight.

"He can't get to you", he assured. "I promise".