I Can Take You Home (A Romanogers Fanfic) COMPLETED

Steve

"Maria? How is she doing?"

  "She's stable, though she had lost quite a lot of blood," Maria answered. She rubbed her neck anxiously. "Though she's still unconscious."

  "I need to see her," Steve demanded.

  "I don't know if anyone's allowed in," Maria answered.

  "I need to see her, Hill," Steve insisted, more impatiently.

  On their way to the headquarters, both Steve and Natasha were cornered by several Black Widows and Winter Soldiers. They managed to fight them off, but Natasha barely escaped breathing. Steve himself had probably had his ribs broken and taken bullet wounds to the stomach, but he somehow miraculously dragged Natasha all the way here without being caught. Sam had flown back, bleeding, with the other Avengers and several heavily armed S.H.I.E.L.D agents as backup. Together, the rest overpowered the remaining Widows and Soldiers, tied them up and stuck them somewhere hidden. The new recruit of the Avengers, Wanda Maximoff, had nearly killed all of them with just a few flicks of her fingers, but Steve had stopped her.

  Now Steve was walking with a limp, and Natasha was still knocked out cold.

  Maria looked at him with squinted eyes, then sighed and touched his elbow, lightly stirring him toward the stairs. "Up there. Come with me. I'll lead you there."

  Maria helped Steve up the stairs, then went down the long hallway. The mirrors that took up the right wall let sunlight in, dappling the hallway prettily. Maria stopped at one of the doors and knocked before going in.

  As expected, Natasha was laying there, her eyes closed. Steve thanked Maria and she left the room, closing the door as she went. Steve stumbled over to the bed and sat down on a stool beside it. He watched Natasha's peaceful face for a while, and matched his breathing to hers, watching her chest move up and down deeply.

  He looked at her limp hand just an inch beside his, and to the blood bag dangling from a metal pole, the tube suspending from it ending in Natasha's wrist. Steve took her hand and damn, it was so cold, so he started rubbing it gently. He pushed himself up a little and kissed her forehead before settling down onto the stool. "Wake up, Nat. You worry me."

  He still remembered how she had gasped when a bullet pierced her stomach. Caught off guard, a Widow had sneaked up behind her and stabbed her violently in the side of the neck.

  Her frightened, shocked face.

  Steve found the most scary part was when her face started to pale and her lips turned white, making the blood that came out of her mouth look black.

  "You know," Steve whispered, nudging her cheek with his knuckle. "I've been learning Russian lately, and stumbled across a lullaby. I don't know if you've heard of it before. I don't know if you can hear me, but I hope you do. Though you might laugh at me for my horrible Russian." He chuckled quietly.

  Soon, the soft murmur of a song filled the room. Steve nearly fell asleep himself when he felt a hand warm on his crown, stroking his head and ruffling his hair.

  He blinked the sleepiness out of his eyes and squinted up at green eyes. Tired, but alive with affection.

  "You sound stupid, dumbass," Natasha rasped quietly. "You got the pronunciation all wrong."

  "You're awake." Nothing could explain the way Steve's heart lightened. He let her run her fingers through his hair, missing her touch, then took her hand and kissed her knuckles. "Do you feel all right? Do I need to go get warm water for you? Hold on, I'll be right-"

  "Shh." Natasha's fingers returned to his head, slowly sliding down his temple to his cheek. She caressed his face, and Steve swore he could see the hearts in her endearing eyes. "Stay with me."

  "Okay." Steve set to rubbing her arm up and down. He pulled the blanket up onto her shoulders. "You sure you're okay?"

  "Yeah." Natasha pulled his chin to her with a finger and pressed her lips to his in a small kiss. "Are you okay?"

  "I've had worse," Steve answered.

  Natasha stared up at the white ceiling. "Same." Breath whistled out of her nose noisily as she exhaled. "I'm scared."

  "Of what?"

  "Of this." Natasha gestured to him, then to herself. "I'm scared, but I'm also delighted in a way I've never been in my whole life. This thrilling feeling, this desire to care so much about a person, it just terrifies me. What if I lost you? I don't think I could handle losing another person. And now they're hunting you down, and..."

  Steve wiped away a tear that was starting to drop down the edge of her eye. He smiled at her softly. "I can protect myself."

  Natasha barked a quiet laugh. "Stupid."

  "You're the stupid one."

  "I have more braincells than you."

  "Hey, I have like half a brain cell and can still think about the consequences of charging into a fight against so many super-powered soldiers and assassins. You, Ms I-Have-More-Braincells-Than-You, just rush in and try to take out of all them. And guess what? You nearly got yourself killed."

  Natasha touched her bandaged neck, and laughed again. "Well, I guess I deserve that."

  "And you're stupid to think that I would leave you. I've lived through World War 2, I think I'll be fine." He sat on the bed and gathered her into his arms, burying his nose into her wonderful red curls. He inhaled the flowery scent in her hair. He remembered not wanting to bathe Natasha and let Wanda do it instead. Not because he didn't want to, he just wasn't sure Natasha would want him to. "Romanoff?"

  "Hmm?" Her fingers drummed his arm.

  "I can take you home."