Your body felt stiff, and heavy, like your bones and muscle had been replaced with concrete. Your mouth felt chapped and dry, and as if it had been filled with cotton and wherever you were, you were surrounded by
Where the hell were you? And why the hell did your head feel so foggy?
You had vague memories of groggily opening your eyes a few times, it seemed like days between each time you managed to pry them open, and you remembered trying to focus on whoever sat beside you calling your name, before you were gone again, lulled back into the soft buzz of sleep.
To be quite honest, you didn’t want to open your eyes. You were fully aware of what had landed you-wherever you were, and if you did open your eyes? Well Steve was going to give you another concussion.
Groaning, you started to roll over and hissed, snapping your eyes open at the sudden pain in your leg-and hand…and head…and foot…man what the shit!
Grunting, you pulled your head up a bit and peered down at yourself, a noise of displeasure erupting from you when you noted the bandages around your thigh, foot and hand. Were there any-
Reaching up, you gingerly touched your head and sighed in relief when you only felt your own hair. Thank the Lord.
There was a sudden creak across the room and your head snapped up. The door was opening and your breath halted when you saw who entered the room.
A disheveled Steve, clad only in loose, grey track pants, which sat low enough on his hips that you could see his v line, came shuffling in, while sleepily rubbing his eyes and yawning. His hair was a mess, you were fairly certain-wait, did he only have one sock on?
The man’s sleepy voice could’ve made even Fury’s heart flutter.
“Hi,” You offered shyly, afraid of just how mad he might be that you a) didn’t listen to him and got out of bed all that while ago, b) got yourself hurt again, and c) closed your eyes and fell into unconsciousness when he very clearly told you not to.
“You’re awake.” He stood there at the foot of your bed, looking stupified for a few more seconds before he was rushing at you.
“What’re you doing?!” You shouted, panicked as you struggled to pull farther into the bed and away from the man who was now poking and prodding you.
“Checking your vitals,” He answered distractedly, warm fingers pressing against your neck.
You swatted his hand away in a huff, irritated with him already. You’d only been awake for a minute tops and he was already smothering you. “Get off of me you psycho!” You huffed, slapping his hands away with your good hand. “I’m fine! You’re making it worse!”
You shot him an indignant glare and he only raised his thick blonde eyebrow. “Picking fights with me already?”
“You don’t need to check my pulse, dummy,” You said, rolling your eyes. “I’m awake and alive and hungry as hell.”
“Well I suspect you’d be,” He answered, sitting down on the bed next to you. It dipped quite noticeably. “You’ve been asleep for four days.”
Your eyes bulged out of your head. Four days? Four. Days. Four days?!
“And nobody thought to put in a feeding tube? How did you hydrate me because I don’t see that tube either,” You said, casting a glance around the room. It was definitely emergency equipped, but there was nothing to imply you’d been kept coma ready. “Have I just been food and liquid deprived for four days?”
Steve only raised his eyebrows again. “You kept waking up and choking on them. I tried to get you to keep the tubes in but you’d keep pulling them out. It happened seven times before I gave up and waited for you to just stay awake on your own.”
Seven times? You woke up seven times and fell back asleep? Damn.
Staring down at your hands in your lap as you felt guilt rise like bile in you. “I’m sorry Steve…I really should have listened to you.”
“Yes, you should have,” He chastised, frowning at you. “You could have serious damage now because you’ve landed yourself two concussions in the span of two weeks. You’ll be out for the count, especially mission wise, for even longer.”
You gawked at him, disbelief widening your eyes. “That’s not fair! I was eating cereal! And Bucky’s the one who asked me t-” You froze when you remembered the poor man’s state.
Steve must have seen your emotional distress because he set a gentle hand on your knee. “He’s fine. He’s been awake since the morning after it all happened.”
You nodded, relief swelling in your chest. You didn’t know what you would have done if he’d been more hurt than you’d been. “And his leg?” You asked, looking up at Steve. “There was a piece of the counter I think through his calf when I got him out of there. Is his leg okay?”
“He’s on crutches,” The blonde answered, nodding all the while. “But he’s okay. He was worried about you too. Everyone is. They’ll be glad to hear you’re awake.”
You beamed at the idea of everyone wanting to see you. It was nice to feel loved and missed.
* * *
It was days before you were allowed to leave bed and begin to mosy around the tower again, or even go back to your own room. And it was a damn good thing too because you didn’t know how much longer you could’ve taken people bringing you food and trying to make you eat chocolate pudding as you stared at the wall because ‘no brain activity, think about things as little as you can!’ Your hand and thigh were still bandaged, although the wounds were healing nicely, and the cut on your foot was almost gone so no bandage was needed for that.
Bucky had come to see you plenty of times during your stay (as did Tony, although all your best friend did was whine and complain about how he was going to be alone for even longer now) and while the rest of the team had been visiting frequently, it seemed neither Bucky nor Steve left your side.
“It’s my fault this happened to you (Y/N),” Bucky had said, resting his crutches against the edge of the bed before sinking down onto it next to you. “If I hadn’t texted you-”
“It’s alright Bucky!” You’d insisted. “If you hadn’t texted me, maybe you would have gone on your own and been hurt and you would have had no one to help you.”
And then there was Steve.
“No TV, no reading, no cell phone, no-”
“Life,” You’d finished for him. “I get it Steve, no life.”
“I’m trying to help you here (Y/N),” He’d said, tidying up your nightstand. “The team’s not exactly the greatest with one of its soldiers missing.”
You’d been a little proud at that, but after murse Steve had left, you were stuck lying in bed, alone and bored. But the boredom didn’t end there.
While you were allowed to wander, you were allowed minimal TV privileges, small doses of reading, your phone every once in a while and there was zero excersizing involved whatsoever. Bruce and Tony said it was so your brain could fully recover, but you could feel yourself losing muscle and gaining fat.
“One match,” You’d begged Natasha. “You can even go easy on me. Please.”
But she’d only shake her head, and say no.
“I can feel myself wasting away,” You’d whine. “I won’t be as good when I come back to work and I’ll drag the team down! Please! It’s for your safety too!”
But 'no’ seemed to be everyone’s favorite word when it came to you.
ONCE you’d snuck into the training area at night to do some weight training, but Steve only hauled your ass back to bed. You got that concussions were really bad, and yes your short term memory was rusty and it freaked you out, and your time perception was off, but you really didn’t think sitting around was helping anyone.
Which is why you gladly welcomed the next mission that took everyone out of the tower. Pepper could only watch you for so long before she got tired, and Jarvis could only say no so many times.