The longest and the sweetest part. What else is new. Thank you for reading.
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3. A handful of thruths
You didn't realize you were shaking until a blanket was tossed over your shoulders.
You were sitting on a short couch in what looked like a cosy office, hair still damp, body finally registering the ache caused by previous events, just like your brain was slowly taking in what had happened.
Captain Rogers, whose courtesy was to escort you from the hellhole you had been attacked in, had clearly took it as a personal mission to take care of your injuries; it hadn't dawned to you until you were seated and your mind helpfully supplied you with 'This isn't the infirmary'.
He pulled a swivel chair to sit face to face with you, a box of medical supplies left open on the coffee table at your side. You didn't realize he had moved the chair or dug the box from god-knew-where until the items were simply there.
"How do you feel?" he inquired, attentive eyes scanning your hunched form. You instinctively curled onto yourself, snuggling further into the blanket. You knew you should come up with an answer, but your brain started to hurt with the effort to do so. "I guess that's fair. Can you tell me what hurts the most?"
You quickly glanced at his open kind face, his baby blues still watching for any reaction that would clue him. Your throat went dry, so you swallowed before speaking. You didn't know what possessed you to tell him what you did.
"My pride," you croaked, causing his eyebrows jump just like the corner of his lips.
"That's probably fair too. Then again, I'd rather know about something I can fix."
You felt your body relax a little at his informal tone – you might even say jovial, but you could still sense too much worry behind it to call it that. You attempted a tiny smile at least to show him that you were more or less fine and brilliantly failed.
"Landed on my shoulder. Probably gonna have a bruise on my side from when... when they kicked me. Ribs and arms might be a bit tender for few days, 'cause they were heavy as they—they're heavy," you voice wavered as you saw the muscles on the captain's forearms clench and his hands curled up in fists. You sheepishly looked up to his face. "I got lucky."
His eyebrows rose again in a 'figures' manner as he leaned back to the chair.
"Nothing else apart from that, your cheek and your pride?"
"I'm a little cold, but you took care of that," you admitted, taking a deep breath in as you tugged on the blanket pointedly.
Despite what you were saying, you didn't feel okay, the tremble never quite leaving your body. It wasn't hard to figure out why. You stared at your knight in shining armour, gathering courage to do what was needed. You tried your best to meet his gaze, feeling so small and embarrassingly weak in front of him.
"Could have been much worse if you haven't showed up. Thank you."
He pressed his lips together, shaking his head. He leaned in, his elbows on his knees.
"I'm sorry I wasn't faster... I should have kept closer eye on Ulrich," he muttered under his breath, making you wonder if you only imagined it. "Your pride shouldn't be hurt. You held yourself against them just fine."
Your heart skipped a beat at the honestly his voice held. Oh. Had he forgotten how things had been when he had arrived?
You weren't sure whether you should remind him. You definitely didn't want to remind yourself, but before you could solve your little dilemma, he clarified.

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Lessons in Rule Breaking and Other Reader-Inserts*Steve Rogers*Reader*
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