Hospital Scene, Take Two

May 02, 2016:

This time it's Cap's turn to visit Sharon in the hospital

Characters

NPCs: None.

Mentions:

Plot:

Mood Music: [*\# None.]


Fade In…

The surgery lasted more than a few hours, in truth. The bullet got lucky, just as much as Sharon got lucky — it went just inside the neck of her vest, catching JUST above her collar bone, so it's not totally shattered, but there's a lot of delicate shoulder muscles and it was damn close to vital arteries. Strange fortune all around. Compounded by another bullet in her leg and a few broken ribs from the ones that her vest caught, and Agent 13 is lucky to be alive. Drugged, stitched back together, a few pints poured into her, and now it's her turn to be laid up in the recovery room on SHIELD base. Her comm unit was on for most of the fight, broadcasting the issues, the strangely hesitant assassin, but she's not been awake yet to give any sort of report. For once in her life she looks… Delicate. Pale, young, pretty in her back-home sort of way. But that stern amount of pure kick-ass she often just seems to radiate has been taken from her with the bandages and monitors, one arm very carefully slung up across her chest, the other covered in an IV.

"You're lucky," Steve Rogers says once he realizes that she's awake. He's been leaning with his hands on the counter of recovery room, shrouded half in darkness, and with a heaviness he's somewhat surprised he doesn't break the granite counter-top.

He doesn't know the details; only that it's serious, and somehow things seem far less serious most of the time. It's episodes like this, when someone close to him nearly loses their life, that he's reminded of the stakes all over again.

With a resigned face, he looks up, "How are you feeling?"

The slight protest of a moan is the first sound that escapes her throat. Sharon *doesn't* want to wake up, but her body is stubborn. The pain meds have worn off just enough that she's aware things are Not Right internally, and she is used to only sleeping six hours a night, she certainly isn't going to sleep much longer. So, wanting to sleep or not, she's swimming back to consciousness, her eyes not even quite open as she hears his voice. That makes her smile, almost immediately. Somehow, that smile softens everything about her.

"Like you have a funny definition of lucky." Sharon rasps out quietly, though there is an edge of teasing to her words. She finally opens drowsy blue eyes, turning her head enough to look in his direction.

"Most people my age didn't graduate high school, so I consider myself lucky," Steve retorts with a smile. He takes a few steps closer and rests his hands on the banister of her hospital bad. He touches the cool metal and slides his hands alongside it.

"What happened?"

A slow breath is drawn in, trying to focus through those lingering fingers of anesthesia and pain. Sharon's mind wasn't entirely organized to give a report yet, but she's trying. She turns her head to face him, pale eyes drowsy behind those blonde lashes, but she's keeping strong focus on his handsome frame.

"I headed out to get some dinner, I'd been here all day and night, thought I'd go down to the city. Walking down the street, a slightly ragged looking man with long, dark hair, hiding under a cap came up to me and said I could go into an alleyway and make this easy, or I could fight and he'd kill me and all the innocents around. So… I walked to the alleyway with him *and* fought."

Steve's head cocks backwards as he tries to make sense of what Sharon is telling him. Is that the drugs talking? Who challenges someone to a fight by threat of killing bystanders? And why shoot her in the neck? Why not just kill her right away, rather than making a sport of it? And if it's for sport, why shoot someone in the neck.

He doesn't quite follow, suffice to say, and his face may say so before he exhales sorrowfully, "I'm just glad you're alright."

"He said I was his target… He hand to kill his target. And he knew how to shoot… Damn well." Sharon gently reaches that free hand up, ginger about the IV, but she rubs it across her eyes in an attempt to focus herself a bit more. "I should be dead. But… he hesitated. It… it was weird, Steve. The strangest assassination attempt I've ever seen. It's like he was looking for an excuse not to do it, but couldn't find it…" She admits with a line to her still too pale lips.

It is extremely unlikely that someone who had such good aim seem so reticent to go for a kill. Assassins just didn't often have such a conscience. Something about this just doesn't add up for Steve, but he can't help but feel that the inner gnawing at his the back of his mind has more to do with his feelings for Sharon.

"Do you have any idea who it was? Have you ever seen them before or did they give you any reason as to why they were coming after you?"

A slight shake of her head. "He knew I was SHIELD. He knew my *name*, not just my code name. But I'd never seen him in my life, not that I could tell. And he was pretty well covered up." Quietly, her hand moves then, from her face to the handrail of the bed where his palms rest. She wraps her cool fingertips gingerly over his, as if to just gently reassure him she was fine. Alive, recovering, just fine.

"The last shot… it should have been a headshot. I was moving as he took it, the only reason I'm still breathing. He did go for the kill, in the end. I just got lucky. Then some… some super speed man in a balaclava came on the scene and got me out of there. That's a whole *other* mess. God… maybe it's the drugs, Steve. Maybe I'm remembering this wrong, because it was the strangest incident…"

"Is there anything peculiar about him that you could tell? A clue that might give us some insight into who he was or why he came after you?" Steve clasps her hand and then suddenly thinks better of the line of questioning. This is probably not in her best interests. Not now, anyways.

"We should probably focus more on your recuperation. You're safe now and whoever that was can't get in here."

His determination to re-focus the conversation makes Sharon smirk, a touch of skepticism in her pale eyes, "You know me, Steve… As soon as they give me a computer, I'll be writing a report. I can't just lay here, it'll drive me crazy. I…I'm fine. I'll be back in a few days. Really. I'm fine." She squeezes his hand as best she can, the touch of her skin and weakness behind her squeeze probably betraying her determined words, but she's trying to prove herself stronger than he might realize.

And he lets her have her way. Because arguing with her will have no use. And reasoning with her will have about the same. He rubs the top of her hand with his thumb and smiles down at her, "When you get back into the office, you know I'm going to want to be involved in this one. To find whoever did this and put them behind bars."

The brush of his warm thumb does bring that smile back a bit. Sharon gives a slight nod to his words, "I need to go over the comm recordings, hopefully it all broadcast. As soon as they let me have a computer." She really is determined to work. But her smile hasn't quite faded yet. Her pale eyes drop to the gentle clasp of their hands. "Last time I was shot I woke up alone. This… this is pretty nice, you know."

"Hey," Steve says with a slight shrug of the shoulders. "You were there when I got hit. I had to be here for you. Of course, you didn't have to go and get shot. We could just have easily rented a movie."

"Oh, I don't want to seem like the *needy* girlfriend. Movies are so demanding." Sharon idly teases, though the word 'girlfriend' slips out without her actually realizing what she's saying. Maybe there's still a FEW drugs left in her system. Especially the way her thumb lazily trails along the edge of his palm. "This seemed like a nice short cut." She teases lightly.

"Any longer of a cut and you probably wouldn't be here," Steve adds. He doesn't say anything about the girlfriend remark, but doesn't seem much bothered by it. Drugs or not. "Listen, I had better let you get some rest. I'm going to be in the building, though, working. If you need me, feel free to give me a ring."

Another brief, gentle squeeze of her hand, and she lets her fingertips slip away from his, hand sinking to rest cool and empty on the beddings of the medical mattress. Sharon can't entirely hide disappointment, but it's second only to exhaustion, so he is probably right. "I…I'm sure I'll be fine. Thank you for coming, though. Really… It means a lot. I…" There's a tumble of words behind her lips that she cannot quite organize, or perhaps it's find the courage to say. She finally settles on a smile. "…come back tomorrow. I'll be going crazy by then."

"If not before," Steve says as he leans down to plant a kiss upon her lips. "Rest up. And stay away from guys with guns."

The kiss is returned gently, her eyes shutting in a mix of relief and, perhaps, just slightly savoring it. His scent, clean and fresh, lingers a few heartbeats longer. "…No promises, Rogers. Go work hard. See you soon." And then her voice goes quiet. From the monitors, she's going to be back asleep again within a few minutes.

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