The Flame (Avengers Fanfiction)

82-everything I wanted

Four Years Ago

It happens again.

That too familiar pain rips through my body, forcing me away. I can feel the warmth between my legs-the stench of iron fills the air. I scream, not wanting to live through this nightmare again. Steve wakes up almost immediately after that, light switching on. The sheets are soaked in the vibrant crimson liquid.

My husband mutters a curse and quickly gets up, moving around the bed to my side. He's stained with the blood too and it only gets worse when he carefully peels back the sheets and blankets. I'm hysterical as he picks me up, carefully carrying me down the stairs, pain ripping through me. Steve sits me down on the stairs, not exactly knowing what to do. His grey sweatpants and white tank top are stained. He'd throw them away once we got home.

There's tears in his eyes and pain in his voice as he calls my brother. Tony flies to our house in his suit, trying to calm me down. I think I hear Tony telling Steve that he will stay with Benny before he carries me to the car. I can't stop touching my stomach, crying the whole time about the baby. Steve's clutching the steering wheel tightly, still trying to talk to me.

The car barely comes to a complete stop before Steve is getting out of the car, picking me up and running towards the emergency room entrance, yelling at doctors and nurses as he sits me down in wheelchair. By the time the doctor tells me what I already know, I already have a migraine and I've cried all of the tears in my body away. I just turn on my side in the hospital bed, away from Steve, from the world. As soon as the door clicks shut, I can hear Steve softly crying.

But now, I was home. Steve had carried me in an hour ago and I haven't moved from the kitchen table since then. Benny is staying with Tony and Pepper. Steve's changed and I'm dressed in clothes that the hospital gave me. I could tell my husband was getting annoyed since I wasn't answering any of his questions. He's had enough, apparently.

"Jesus Christ! Talk to me, Peyton!" Steve shouts, slamming his hand down on the counter. I didn't flinch. I was way too numb to react. Instead, another tear rolled down my cheek as I looked down at the hospital bracelet that was still on my wrist. I couldn't talk, why didn't he understand that I couldn't talk? Steve was pacing, his hand running through his hair. He doesn't say anything to me as he grabs his leather jacket and walks towards the front door. It slams shut behind him, shaking the house. I try not to focus on the fact that my husband just left me when I really need him. Instead, my attention is on the fact that there's blood under my nails.

Tears roll down my cheeks and I sob, not bothering to be quiet as I sit alone in this big house I had bought in hopes of growing my family.

I didn't know that Steve, instead of turning to Natasha (which I kind of expected him to do) he went to Sharon.

Which would lead to this mess, now wouldn't it Stevie?

-

I felt someone's body pressed against mine.

My head was pounding, practically throbbing. Oh even though I know the curtains were pulled closed, a sliver of light found my face and burning my eyes through my eyelids. It definitely didn't help the headache. I was confused at first, part of me thinking that it was Steve laying next to me, holding me close like he used to. Or maybe it was a Clint and I was just extremely hungover. Maybe it was Matt and my headache was due to eating too much unhealthy food the night before. Maybe I was coming down off a high and I was hungover. My head was spinning, swimming in all of this confusion.