#im going to put my head through either a wall or somebody's ribs soon GOD

[downfour]

I should be allowed to fucking maim shit because im the specialest person on earth. and because ive earned it

[banashee]

My first story from my @badthingshappenbingo​ card.

*+~

 Fixing the damage

 The pain is overwhelming and nauseating.

 Steve is faintly realizing that he is no longer trapped under the rubble of a collapsed building, but somewhere white and bright that smells of antiseptic - probably a hospital. He squeezes his eyes back shut, trying to breathe.

  It eases his mind, a little bit, just for a few seconds before the worry hits him once again. His mind is sluggish, but just now it comes back to him that he wasn't alone under the steel and stones.

 *+~

     The warehouse breaks down faster than anybody is even able to react - at the time, Steve is in there with Clint because the mission had lead them there while the rest of the team takes care of the threats outside. But suddenly, there is an explosion and the walls and ceilings around them crumble down. There is no time left to think, and Steve reacts lightning fast and instinctively - he throws himself right over Clint, shielding im with his own body in an attempt to keep the damage minimal. His own chances to survive this, to survive the injuries, is one hell of a lot higher than his very human teammates.  

     Both of them curse violently, and a moment later, the dust settles slowly.  

     Steve is right over Clint, propped up on his arms even though they are now in odd, unnatural angles. A heavy piece of rubble is pressing down on his back and he is bleeding, judging from the sudden wetness under his uniform and the stabbing pain that creeps through him. His ribs feel broken, too. Steve is in pain and shaking with it, but he keeps going, keeps himself up to protect them both from getting crushed.  

     Some of the blood drips down from his face, red droplets a stark contrast to his friends pale skin.  

     For the fraction of a second, there is panic on Clint’s face, then he visibly calms himself, breathing even as to not waste any air while they’re buried down here. They’re pressed close to each other, but there is a bit of room filled with precious air in between them - they’ll have to make the best of it until their team can get them out.  

     Loud voices over the comms let them know that they are onto it. They’ll get them out, but it sounds frantic in their ears. All they can do is trust them.  

     Steve is tired, and he really wants to close his eyes, but he can’t.  

             “Hey.” Clint’s voice sounds softly from underneath him, “Don’t pass out on me, Cap. Keep talking.”  

     “About what?” he manages, voice scratchy.  

     “Tell me a story. Complain about the turn of events or bitch about the patriarchy. Anything as long as you stay awake, Steve.”  

     And he must be trying, but he really doesn’t know what he is even saying - everything's a blur and he couldn’t tell which way is up or down.  

     If it’s been minutes or hours or even longer - Steve doesn’t know.  

 *+~

 In the fog of pain, Steve can make out voices.

 He recognizes his team, and it sounds like most if not all of them are there - immediate relief fills him, because it means they are alive. There is also the voice from somebody that his sluggish brain faintly recognizes as a doctor he might have met a few times before - SI, not SHIELD.

 She talks about broken bones and healing powers, about partially healed injuries that went back together wrong due to the time it took to get him out from under the building. She talks about having to re-break bones.

 Even in this state of mind, it sends an icy shower down his spine and Steve just knows what it means - and even if he didn’t, the passionate “Fuck!” that sounds very much like Tony tells him enough.

 There are no sedatives that work on him. He might pass out from pain if he’s lucky, but there is no single chemical in the world, as far as they know, that puts him under or is able to relief pain. His enchanted metabolism burns through everything way too quickly to even begin to work.

 Steve can feel his heartbeat speed up, and faintly he can make out the conversation next to his bed, because he forces himself to.

 “We’ll need your strongest ones. Since Dr. Banner is currently passed out it will have to be you, Thor. And you too, Mr. Stark. Please get on your suit.”

 He can hear how Tony swallows audibly and says, “Oh God. This is wrong, so, so wrong.”

 “There is no other way, I’m afraid.” Answers the doctor, and she does sound sympathetic. “The longer we wait now, the worse it will get. I don’t think any of you would want his injuries to heal wrong, it will only cause him more pain and problems, and eventually this will have to get done - better do it now than later.”

 There is a long beat of uncomfortable silence in the room, and then the bed dips down with the weight of another person, settling down by his head, and calloused hands gently touching him until Steve’s head is pillowed on somebody's lap.

 “Agent Barton, maybe you should go back to bed while-”

 “Make me. I dare you to fucking try it.” Clint bites back without letting the doctor even finish the sentence. It is obvious he won’t go anywhere and Steve is grateful for it - he automatically leans into the touch of the hand that’s running through his hair reassuringly.

 The next few minutes are agony.

 Steve can feel the pressure on his body, bones breaking under it with noises that will stay with him for a long time and leave the whole room with dread. Voices around him are talking, but he can’t make out the words - he is too busy trying to keep himself from screaming. If he had to guess, it is probably a mixture of calm instructions, reassurances and apologizes for causing him more pain.

 There are intervals where bones are broken again, then he gets a small pause where his bones are set into place and held with casts and bandages, right away as to avoid them starting to heal again before they’re straight again.

  Later, Steve will think back on this, unable to decide which would be worse - having to have partially healed bones re-broken to set them, or having to be the one to cause a friend pain in this way, even when it is to help them.

 If he was able to, he would hold onto Clint with the one hand that still works somewhat, but straining his arm hurts too much. So his fingers spasm for something to grip, and they are soon held by a warm hand, grip light as to not hurt him further, but firm enough to be reassuring, thumb softly rubbing over the side of his own hand.

 A sharp push on his ribs sends another wave of pain through his entire body. Air leaves his lungs, and he can hear, “Breathe, keep breathing.” next to his ear, and he tries to accommodate. Somehow, he manages to breathe again, gasping for air, really, but there are now tears pooling in the corners of his eyes and he finds himself unable to stop them and they soak into the soft fabric of the pants where his head still rests, now running free after the pressure finally stops and the doctor leaves the room, leaving Steve in the care of his friends.

 The whirring sounds of the Iron Man suit tell him that it gets taken off, quick footsteps running for the bathroom and shortly after, he can hear Tony retching and throw up into the toilet.

 Steve can feel his bed dip down once again, and he is faintly aware that Thor just sat down by his feet, gently placing one of his enormous hands on his uninjured calf in an comforting gesture, talking. His mind is clearing up, now that the worst is over, and he rasps out a “thank you.” which is met with a sad hum, and Thor says,

 “Please do not thank me for this - I am sorry to cause you more pain, my friend, even when it was only to help.” After a short pause he continues, “Rest now, we will keep you company.”

 Steve nods, but is unable to fall asleep, so he dozes a bit, Thor by the end of his bed and with Clint still running a hand through his hair. He’s tense and trying to hide it, but Steve can feel it now. He wants to ask him if he is okay, but before he can gather his thoughts and voice for this, the bathroom door opens again, and Tony emerges. He sits down next to Steve, apologizing a million times before he starts rambling. It’s oddly familiar and comforting, the quick string of words at least, and it makes him smile a bit.

 “Can you stay here for a bit?” He can then hear Clint ask, which is clearly directed at Tony, who gives an affirmative answer. Then the archer gets up from his spot, and then the bathroom door shuts quickly. They can still hear him throwing up - Steve feels sorry for his friends and their reaction to this, but he knows they won’t want to hear it.

 Clint’s spot is quickly taken by Tony. His touch feels different, not only because his hands are slightly smaller than Clint’s and his movements more restless than calm, but it is just as comforting to feel him close by. Steve still doesn’t allow himself to sleep yet.

 A few more minutes tick by, and he can hear his friends talk. Clint must have come back by now, because Thor says,

 “You should rest, you are still concussed.” which is met with half hearted protest but Tony interrupts him.

 “Thor is here, I’m here. My fucking suit is here. Knowing the others, they’ll be here soon as well. Lie down, sleep. We’ll keep watch.”

 And surprisingly enough, he does.

 Clint carefully stretches out next to Steve, because good luck getting him to leave him right now. Steve knows that he feels responsible for his injuries, because he’s been protecting him. It’s a talk they’ll have later, when the world is less fuzzy and less painful.

 For now, he’s happy to have a warm body next to him, carefully touching, and two other friends in the room with them to keep watch.

 Now, he finally allows himself to sleep, and when he wakes up next, he’s feeling a lot better already.

 When he looks around, the whole team is scattered across his room, either reading or silently talking or playing board games, but everyone is here.

 They’re all okay, and that’s all that counts.

*+~

 Bad Things Happen Bingo.

 Square: Setting a broken bone