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jtargaryen18 · 1 year ago

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His Inheritance ~ Chapter 30

Part 30: Illusions

Series Masterlist

Words: 4.4k

Pairing: Mobster Steve Rogers x Mobster daughter reader

Warnings: References to mob crime families, reference to being a shooting victim, references to sexual violence. Strong language, betrayal, more than one character being in physical peril. This is a dark fic. Please read responsibly.

Disclaimer: The author of this work claims no ownership of characters aside from the reader, and original secondary characters mentioned. This work is not intended for those under the age of 18 due to explicit sexual content and darker themes. By reading this work or any works on my blog (jtargaryen18), you agree that you are at least 18 years of age. I do not consent to have my work hosted on any third party app or site. If you are seeing this fanfiction anywhere but archiveofourown and tumblr, it has been reposted without my permission.

Summary: For @alexakeyloveloki. Your father is the head of one of the most powerful crime families in Boston but he’s protected you from that life. In your quiet home outside the city, you’ve been cared for and protected. When the desires of a more powerful man with the will to dominate bursts into your life, all your illusions are shattered as he comes to claim what is his.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“There she is,” you heard her whisper.

Your eyes felt heavy when you slit them open. Your vision was blurry, and your mouth was dry. You tried to sit up and that’s when sharp pain reminded you of what happened.

“Stop,” Yelena said gently. “You’ll reopen your wound if you’re not careful.”

The concern in her hazel eyes reminded you of what happened. Blurry memories flashed in your mind of being in Hansen’s house. Neal. Dyson’s friends. Jensen. Dyson. Steve…

“Steve,” you asked, panicked. Your husband took a bullet for you. Well, he took the brunt of it.

Yelena lifted a glass of water from the bedside table. You were in the bedroom you shared with Steve. But you didn’t see anyone but Yelena there.

“He’s going to be okay,” she told you with a smile, holding the glass so you could take a sip.

“He was shot.” Your voice sounded groggy.

“So were you,” she pointed out.

It hurt like hell. You lifted a hand to your shoulder, feeling the dressing under the nightgown you wore.

“Fucking hurts,” you mumbled. “Hansen must be so happy... Bastard.”

That had Yelena smiling. “That’s your exit wound. It could have been a lot worse. It was a .45 caliber bullet. If it had just hit you, it would have done a lot of damage.”

That just meant it did a lot of damage to Steve.

“Did Hansen survive?” You were really hoping he didn’t.

Yelena sighed. “I’m not sure. When he shot you and Steve, it sent everyone into a panic. Hansen’s men faced off against Clay and Jensen so he could slip out, but he was hit. Word on the street is that Hansen’s dead, but I don’t believe it.”

“Where’s Dyson?” you asked.

“Waiting for the doctor to finish with Steve,” she told you. “He’s fretting over both of you like a mother hen.”

You blew out an exhale. “Is Steve really going to be okay?”

Her smile faded. “I think so. We’ll know soon enough. You were very lucky. The bullet barely missed your lung. You’ll have a scar, but you will recover.”

“Will Steve recover?” Guilt clouded your mind, blocking out everything else. “It was my fault he got shot.”

What if Steve died? What if it impacted the rest of his life? Would he forgive you?

“Try not to worry,” she told you. “The doctor is very good. He took very good care of you.”

“Me?” Again, you tried to sit up, but Yelena urged you to be still. The stabbing pain in your shoulder was breathtaking. “Why did he take care of me first? He should have taken care of Steve. He should have—”

“Steve wouldn’t have it,” Yelena explained. “He was only worried about you.”

And it was your fault you both got shot. Tears came on then.

“Were your friends okay?” You had to ask. “Jensen?”

“They’re okay,” she assured you.

“What about Clint?” you asked, panicking as you remembered more. “Have we heard from him?”

“Clint’s okay,” a familiar voice said from the doorway of your bedroom. Clint looked beat up, but he made it. “Nat! She’s awake.”

Nat scrambled into the bedroom, dashing to your bed. She might have hugged you if Yelena hadn’t caught her.

“She has to be careful with the stitches,” Yelena said gently.

Nat’s green eyes were glassy with tears. “I can’t believe you got shot.”

She hugged you so carefully.

“I can’t either,” you told her. “Where’s Scott?”

“Scott went to pick up Yelena’s things,” Clint said from where he stood at the foot of your bed. “He’s good.”

That meant Yelena was moving back into your home. Good.

“He’s not alone, is he?” You had to know.

Clint shook his head. "He’s got a few of our guys watching his back.”

With Nat’s help, Yelena used pillows to prop you up in the bed. The movements hurt but you could handle it. Your gaze took in all their worried faces. All you could think about was Steve.

“Clint!” Someone, you thought it was Dyson, called from down the hall.

Clint hurried off and intuition had your stomach dropping.

“When will we know about Steve?” you asked, hoping maybe Nat knew something.

You saw your own worry reflected in her green eyes. She smiled but it didn’t reach those eyes.

“Don’t worry about that right now,” Nat said. “You need to rest.”

No, you needed to know how your husband was.

They stayed with you, talking quietly. Clint had been lucky in that a couple of Dyson’s friends showed up to help him when he was surrounded by Barnes’ men. There had been a massive shootout before the cops showed up, giving Clint the chance he needed to get out of there.

Nat chatted on excitedly, retelling Clint’s tale. Groggy as your mind was from being put under, it took you a minute to realize Nat hadn’t said a thing about Bruce Banner. You had been about to ask about Banner, but you caught yourself, thinking better of it. Nat was still in a fragile place. Maybe nothing happened. Maybe something did. It wasn’t in her best interest to even think about Banner right now.

Clint returned a few minutes later, his expression changed. You thought you could read Clint somewhat but right now? It looked like one hell of a poker face.

Dyson followed him in, his gaze on you. So much emotion swirled in his eyes as he approached your bedside and Nat let him have her seat at your side. Dyson leaned forward to press a kiss to your forehead, his eyes were glassy, red.

Something was wrong. It sent a spike of panic through your heart.

“I’m so glad you’re alright,” Dyson said with such emotion in his voice. “You shaved a few years off this old man’s life.”

You tried to smile.

Dyson took your hand carefully in his. “I love you too, but don’t you ever do something like that again. I’m supposed to take a bullet for you, not the other way around.”

You’d expected him to say something like that. If you’d been the only one shot, you’d have been fine. It would have been worth it. Aside from the bruises on his face from his none-too-gentle handling from Hansen and Neal, Dyson looked beaten up but mostly unharmed. Not shot.

The problem was your efforts had prompted Steve to protect you.

“Hey, Nat,” Clint said carefully. “Why don’t you get in bed? It’s late and you’ve had a rough day. Come on.”

Oh no. Your heart began to ache as you nodded at Nat, told her you’d be alright. Clint led her out of your bedroom. In the doorway, he paused. The poignant look he cut you before walking away had fear rioting in your chest.

Fear had even crept into Yelena’s expression.

“Dyson,” you whispered. “What is it? What’s wrong?”

Dyson blew out an exhale, seemed to be working up the courage to say what he came to say.

“Tell me.” Desperation bled on your tone. “How is Steve?”

Dyson sighed. “The surgery went well,” he said slowly. “Doc was able to deal with most of the damage. But Steve… bled a lot. He lost a lot of blood.”

Oh my God. Panic had you trying to get out of bed. You needed to see him. Now.

“Is he alive?” you asked tearfully, your breath coming fast.

Dyson nodded, his gaze fixed on you. “He’s alive… But he’s in a coma right now.”

It took both Dyson and Yelena to keep you in bed, the pain be damned. The pain felt distant, not nearly as bad as the ache in your heart. The guilt…

“He’s strong,” Dyson leaned closer as he held you there. “He’s young. Doc says he might snap out of it any time.”

Might wasn’t good enough. Might wasn’t nearly good enough.

Again, you scrambled on the bed and again, they got a grip on you. That’s when the tears came on.

“Please,” you begged. “I have to see him. I have to talk to him. If I—”

“You will,” Yelena assured you. “But not right now.”

“Yes, right now!” you yelled.

Your gaze moved to Dyson just in time to see the syringe in his other hand. Regret stained his expression as he slid the needle into your upper arm, administering its contents into your bloodstream. The sedative had the world slipping away from you by the second as you fought…

***

It was so quiet in Luca’s kitchen. Yelena sat at that small wooden table next to Dyson, so tired it was hard to keep her eyes open. Dyson hadn’t really touched the cup of black coffee Luca put in front of him. Well, Scott hadn’t touched his either. Clint, like her, had waved it away. He’d been the last to join them in the quiet of the kitchen.

It wasn’t lost on her that usually, they were all in good spirits here. Usually, they told tall tales about life in the Rogers’ family, or they had a poker game going. And now?

Now it felt like their entire world had been upended.

Only Luca was still standing, leaning against the counter with his beefy arms folded across his chest and his gaze on the floor.

“How is Nat?” Yelena had to ask, catching Clint’s gaze.

Clint shook his head. “No damn good. She’s still having nightmares about Banner and then all this shit happened.”

“Does she know Banner is dead?” Yelena asked.

“No,” Clint said. “Not a good time. She’s already terrified from what happened tonight.”

Yelena respected his decision.

“She asleep?” Dyson asked.

Clint nodded. “I got her to take a Valium. At least she’ll sleep for a little while.”

Yelena blew out an exhale. You were a different story. And she wasn’t looking forward to when the sedative wore off. She knew you were scared and blaming yourself for what happened.

“I’m just going to go ahead and say it,” Luca said. “Barnes has been handing us our asses since the boss got married and we’re damned lucky that today didn’t go a hell of a lot worse. Hansen got his hands on Dyson. Mrs. Rogers got shot and the boss…”

Dyson nodded silently where he sat.

“Barnes has been one step ahead of us the entire fucking time and Steve?” Luca scrubbed a hand over his face. “Steve was a force to be reckoned with before he got married.”

Wait. What?

“Please tell me you’re not blaming Mrs. Rogers for all this,” Yelena pleaded, more than ready to defend you.

“Not her fault… directly,” Luca explained. “She got in his head. But he has to have better control than that when it comes to the business. He can’t allow anything to get him so turned around that he starts making bad decisions. And he’s made nothing but bad decisions since he got married.”

“It was more than that,” Dyson finally spoke up. “He didn’t marry her until after her father died. And while her father was alive, he was Steve’s mentor. He guided him, helped him think things through when it came to leading the families.”

Dyson rose from his chair and walked around the table to get to the fridge, pulling out a beer.

“Barnes saw through it,” Dyson went on. “Barnes is a sharp one, always was. He didn’t let the old boss get cold in his grave before he started pushing buttons.”

“Where does that leave us?” Luca asked. “There’s blood in the water. Barnes ain’t backing off now.”

“No, he’s not,” Dyson replied.

“And Steve’s father-in-law is gone,” Luca went on. “If having a mentor is the only way he was going to pull this off, we’re fucked.”

Dyson paused, putting his beer on the table, unopened. Yelena knew that look on his face. He’d thought of something.

“Maybe we’re not,” he said as thoughts ran through his head. She could almost see them.

“What?” Luca threw his hands up. “The old man is dead.”

“But he’s not entirely gone,” Dyson said, meeting Yelena’s gaze. And it was at that moment that she knew where this was going.

Luca looked lost. “What are you saying?”

“We have his kid,” Dyson said it out loud. “We have his daughter. She’s as sharp as her father ever was.”

Scott’s eyes lit up, catching on. He nodded.

“Hey,” Luca drew their attention to him. “Maybe you’re right. She might even be sharper than her old man. But she can’t take over. No family is going to accept her lead. You know that.”

“I do know that,” Dyson said.

“Steve would never accept that either,” Luca went on.

“Right now Steve can’t give us his opinion,” Dyson pointed out. “He’s in a comma. God willing, he’ll come out of it. But no one outside the family can know about his condition. Barnes will finish us if he finds out.”

That had everyone pausing.

“What are you saying?” Clint asked, looking very invested in the discussion now.

“Everyone outside this room, and Nat, have to believe that Steve is still holding the reins,” Dyson told them gravely. “And until he’s awake, someone has to call the shots.”

“No.” Luca shook his head. “She’s got a good head on her shoulders but leading a mob family? Leading five mob families?”

“She was right about Neal, wasn’t she?” Dyson stressed. “She’s got her old man’s instincts. You’ve said it yourself. We can give her the circumstances. She doesn’t have to know the business. We do. We lay it all out for her and she makes the calls.”

“If we’re doing all that,” Luca said, “why don’t me and you make the calls?”

“If you or me were qualified to lead a family, we wouldn’t be here,” Dyson said. “But you’re a cook and I’m an enforcer. But her?” Dyson pointed upstairs. “She’s our best shot at this. She’s how we pull this off.”

“How do we know she’ll want to do it?” Clint threw in. “That’s a huge responsibility.”

“She hasn’t backed down from anything yet, has she?” Scott asked.

Yelena smiled at him. Scott was right.

“She’ll do it.” Yelena knew she would. “She feels responsible for Steve’s injury. She’ll do anything she can to help for that reason.”

“She will,” Dyson told them. ”If Steve doesn’t wake up, the Rogers family is done for. If and when he does wake up, we’ll reassess then.”

“Word will get out that Steve was shot,” Luca pointed out. “That she was shot. Hansen and his men might have survived.”

Dyson shook his head. “If Hansen’s alive, and I doubt it, him and his men are long gone. They’ve got bigger problems. Barnes will be hunting them for betraying his family.”

Yelena knew that was true.

“You said it yourself,” Luca said. “Barnes is sharp. He’s going to figure it out.”

“We’ll see,” Dyson said.

“You really think she can do this?” Luca asked. “If she really does have her father’s instincts, it could be bad news for Barnes. Her father was a ruthless bastard.”

Dyson chuckled. “She has them instincts. And no offense,” he waved to Yelena, “but she’s a woman. Those instincts and a woman’s intuition? Barnes might be the one fucked.”

Clint shook his head with a laugh. “Holy shit.”

Dyson’s gaze met Yelena’s. “Exactly right.”

***

The low din of voice was the first thing you noticed when you woke up the next morning. Turning on the TV, you didn’t immediately know where your phone was, you saw it was just after 11 AM.

Fuck. I’ve been out that long?

As quietly as you could manage, you sat up, wincing at the pain. It hurt ten times worse today and pulling back your nightgown to see the dressing, you saw that you’d bled through it.

You’d live.

You had to get to Steve.

It was slow going in making yourself at least presentable. You took a sink bath because you knew you probably should get the dressing over your wound wet. You pulled on jeans and one of Steve’s big sweaters because a bra was out of the question at the moment. Sliding on flats, you decided you were as good as you were going to get today.

The voices continued and you slid out of your room and made your way in that direction. Was it Nat?

Was it Steve?

Dyson had told you Steve was in a coma. Was he awake now? Could you see him?

Was he dead?

Nat’s bedroom was quiet, so you passed it. The talking was coming from a few doors down, one of the guest rooms. The door was slightly open, and you peeked in. You saw Yelena, Clint, and Jensen off to one side of the room. You moved to see the bed, your heart leaping in hope that it was Steve, and he was awake.

It wasn’t Steve. No, in the center of that bed was a young woman, asleep and curled up on her side. She looked so small with the covers pulled up over her shoulder. She looked so familiar.

Then you remembered that small purple purse in Hansen’s house, randomly lying on his sofa. It occurred to you why she looked familiar.

“She’s going to have to understand,” Clint said in a low voice. “We can’t go to the police.”

“I understand that,” Yelena said. “But we also can’t just throw her back out into the world. Not with what he did to her. She needs help and protection.”

Jensen stood listening, his hands on his slim waist. Clint’s hair was spiked over his head and the shadows behind his eyes led her to believe that he’d probably been up all night.

Yelena stood next to the bed, a protective stance. It confirmed your suspicions about what you were seeing. It was the girl from the donut shop. She’d been Hansen’s prisoner and you had some idea of what had happened to her. You also couldn’t help but feel that if anything had happened to Steve, they wouldn’t be dealing with this.

You chose that moment to walk in, to make your presence known. Yelena looked alarmed when she spotted you.

“What are you doing up?” she asked, dashing to your side. “You should be resting right now.”

You shook your head, shrugged off her careful hands. She was probably right but you couldn’t truly rest if you tried. There was way too much going on.

“It’s the girl from the donut shop.” It wasn’t a question. “When did you find her?”

“Dyson sent me back to Hansen’s this morning to do a sweep of the house,” Jensen explained. “To make sure there’s nothing there to implicate your family.”

“Thank you,” you told him. “Our doctor needs to see her.”

Yelena nodded. “He’ll be back in a little while. He—”

“He didn’t stay with my husband?” you asked, trying to keep calm.

“He went back to get his things,” Clint said with his hands held up in front of him. “He’ll be staying with us for a while. Until Steve wakes up.”

You took a deep breath, trying not to let panic take over. Steve was still in a comma then.

You nodded. “Once he’s seen Steve, I want him to take care of her. Yelena’s right. Unless something changed we don’t know if Hansen’s dead or alive. We need to keep her safe.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Clint nodded.

“She probably shouldn’t stay here,” Clint said carefully. “For her own well-being.”

“Once we know she’s physically okay, we’ll come up with a solution,” you told them. “I also want a psychologist brought in to see her.”

“We'll make it happen,” Yelena told you, exchanging a glass with Clint.

Yelena knew more than you what that poor woman had been through. The woman would need that type of support and understanding.

“Jesus, Mary, and Joseph,” Dyson muttered from behind you as he marched in. “Why are you out of bed?”

He came to a stop right in front of you, his gaze assessing.

“Because it beats just laying there worried about my husband and thinking ‘oh, shit, my shoulder hurts,’” you told him. “Can I see my husband now?”

After a moment, Dyson nodded. “Come on.”

Dyson led you to another guestroom in another hallway. It was quiet in the room and your husband lay in the middle of the bed. He was too still, too pale. He almost never slept on his back, so it was odd to see him like that. Clusters of medical monitors were positioned all around the bed, pushing your anxiety up higher than it already was.

You moved to his bedside, sitting carefully at his side. You barely noticed the pain in your shoulder in that moment as you took his hand in yours. It was warm, but it was too still. Your heart ached in your chest to look at him lying there.

Your fault. This was all your fault.

You knew Dyson was quietly waiting behind you. You didn’t care. You let the tears come, sobbing over your husband as a hundred nightmare scenarios flashed in your mind. What if you lost him? What if he awoke but he was broken, not the same. He’d hate you and that hate would flash in his blue eyes every time he looked at you.

You didn’t realize Dyson had walked over to the bed at first. He stood on the other side, looking as brokenhearted as you felt. Steve was like a son to him.

“I need you to know that if anything happens to Steve,” Dyson said slowly, “I won’t let anyone hurt you. I won’t let Barnes or Hansen get to you. I swear.”

You shook your head. Dyson was a blur on the other side of your tears. “If anything happens to Steve, I won’t care what happens to me, Dyson. It won’t matter.”

A single tear slid down one cheek as he thought about what you said. “Somewhere in all of this, you really fell in love with him, didn’t you?”

Swiping at your eyes with your fingers you nodded. It was a raw truth, and you couldn’t deny it.

“You can talk to him,” Dyson said gently. “Doc said that often when patients are in… a state like this… they can hear you. Might not be able to answer but…”

Your tears dotted the back of Steve’s hand, held in your own. They just kept coming and the crack in your heart got longer and longer until it felt like the world would come apart.

“What do you want him to know?” Dyson’s tone was encouraging.

“I love you,” you said to your husband through your tears. “I’d give anything to take this back. Anything. It’s my fault you got hurt. I’m so… sorry…”

This time as you sobbed, Dyson sat behind you, wrapping his arms around you like he could hold you together.

“Shhhh,” he whispered as he held you. “It wasn’t your fault.”

“It was,” you told him miserably. “I should have done something different. I should have…”

“You were so brave,” Dyson said quietly. “I’ve worked with soldiers who didn't have half of your bravery. Do you know that?”

You shook your head, holding on to Steve’s hand.

“Dyson,” you said as you were trying to get the tears to stop, “he’s in danger. Not just the injuries… What will Barnes do when he finds out? What if Hansen is still alive and he finds out? We have to put a guard around the house. It’s bad enough that he’s like this. But someone… could try to come and finish him off.”

“We were talking about last night,” Dyson said slowly. “And you’re right. We have to safeguard Steve and this family.”

“What are we going to do?” you asked.

“We’re going to convince the outside world that Steve is fine,” Dyson explained. “That’s he’s still holding the reins in this family. That he’s still the head of all the families.”

It sounded like a good idea on the surface, but you hit a dead end in your thoughts pretty quickly. “Even if we could convince everyone that Steve’s fine and still leading the families, he’s in a comma. He’s not even conscious. He can’t make decisions like this. What’s your plan for that?”

“That’s where I need your help,” he said.

You couldn’t have heard that correctly. Shifting on the bed so you could meet his gaze over your shoulder, you stared Dyson down.

“How can I help?”

“I need your instincts,” Dyson said, looking you in the eye. “You were right about Neal. You were right about everything. Hansen pulled the stunt he did, and you just ran right out to challenge him over my sorry ass.”

He thought you could help run the Rogers family? All the families?

“You have strong instincts, your father's instincts, and you're brave,” he went on.

“Maybe I’m just fucking crazy,” you muttered.

“All I’m asking you to do is try,” he said patiently. “After all this, Steve is going to be expected to strike back. He’s going to be expected to hit Barnes hard, to end this rebellion once and for fucking all.”

Dyson was right.

“Everyone expects Steve to be looking for some payback,” Dyson went on. “Don’t you want a little payback for all this?”

That little offer caught your attention. Did you want to make Barnes and Hansen pay? Yes, you did. With the help of Neal and Banner, Barnes had hit Steve’s family hard in so many ways. Consequences you'd faced. Yelena had faced. And Nat? She’d suffered the most.

And what Hansen likely did to that poor girl?

Payback? Oh yes. You wanted a lot of fucking payback.

You glanced at your husband, your heart echoing his words to you from yesterday. Come back to me.

Steve would come back to you. You wouldn’t accept anything less. You wouldn’t let his family fall.

Returning your gaze to Dyson, you lifted your chin. “Let’s do this. I want Barnes to fucking suffer. I want to hit him so fucking hard no one else will ever dare challenge my husband, my family, again.”

Dyson smiled.

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#His Inheritance #Surprise #Let's get Act 2 going #Steve Rogers #Clint Barton #Yelena Belova #Scott Lang #LLoyd Hansen #Mafia au #Steve Rogers x reader #Steve Rogers x you

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