Man Out of Time - A Captain America / Avengers Fanfiction

Chapter 35

Chapter 35

Steve grabbed the wall, the rocking of the ship throwing him off balance in his tenuous state. He'd been aware of weapons fire echoing through the ship for quite some time, but this was the first time the Triskelion had taken a direct hit. With alarms blaring and red lights flashing, it was hard to tell what was happening three decks above. The only reason the ship would be taking fire was if defenders were trying to get onboard. Either that, or the military had decided it was better to just blow it up rather than risk the aliens getting their hands on it. The former, he hoped. With the Triskelion anchored in New York harbor, the aliens had little hope of holding onto it.

Each step caused pain to shoot up his leg, making him dizzy and nauseous, but he pushed it back, forcing himself to keep moving. He'd suffered worse, including his last memory of being tossed against the ceiling of Red Skulls warplane as it had slammed into the ocean. He'd sunk beneath the icy waters, his mind clinging to the last image he had of Peggy as she'd released him from the kiss before he'd leaped onto the landing gear, welcoming the water into his lungs as he'd prayed for the end to come quick so he wouldn't suffer. There had been no white light. No angels. No Valhalla. All there had been was silence until he'd woken up in a hospital in New York, vintage tunes playing on a radio that had been a ruse to ease his rebirth into a different century.

He'd wanted to tell Peggy how much he'd loved her when she'd released him from the kiss. Tell her as he'd aimed the ship into the ocean and said yes, he would meet her for a dance. But he'd held back, always cautious when it came to matters of the heart. A lifetime of rejection had taught him the fairer sex could be cruel when you wore your heart upon your sleeve. Doctor Erskine had changed his body, but nothing would ever change his memory of how much it hurt when a woman rejected you.

The ship rocked again, the explosion audible even over the screeching of the sirens. Steve wished somebody would turn them off. Everybody who needed to know the ship was under attack already knew, or was dead. They made him feel disoriented, pain giving him the eerie sense of floating above his body as it moved itself down the hall of its own volition. Part of his consciousness was aware of his own pain, but the larger part ruminated about matters that had nothing to do with retrieving his armor so he wouldn't be so darned vulnerable.

Bernice. He wasn't certain when the thought had begun to intrude into his mind. A tender moment. A smile. Flitting around his subconscious like a butterfly, fragile wings touching upon his thoughts at odd moments, like the way she laughed whenever he nibbled down her neck, so much different than Peggy's laugh had been. That laugh belonged only to Bernice, and he found himself doing whatever he could to elicit it from her. It made him warm and fuzzy in a way even Peggy had never been able to make him feel. It made him warm and fuzzy now, blending in with the pain of his broken leg and giving the emotion a bittersweet edge, reminding him he had something else to lose besides a failed mission or his own life.

Why hadn't he told her when he'd rushed out of there tonight? He'd meant to tell her. Sometime this week, perhaps? If all went well at the family gathering she was dragging him to for Thanksgiving that had him tied up in a bundle of nerves. Peggy's family. But also Bernice's. Did any of them have any idea who he even was? He'd hinted at the words, casually dropping them into conversation for weeks now, carefully observing her to see if she found his affections amusing. The way she blushed and looked up at him through veiled lashes, as though wishing he'd say more, had made him bolder. Why hadn't he told her? If he died in battle tonight, would she even know? Or would she move on, as Peggy had done, so ready to love another because in her mind, because he had never said the words, it hadn't been real?

Keeping silent was the right thing to do…

He was sick of always doing the right thing, dammit! Why hadn't he told her?