Sharon was dead.
She died right before Steve's eyes, her throat crushed by that mass of dark red flesh. Her heart had stopped beating; her beautiful eyes were bloodshot and bulging, as if trying to escape their sockets. Her final look of utter despair was fixed on Steve—a scene of pure, unadulterated horror.
"Sharon... Peggy..."
Steve was devastated, his heart felt as if it were being carved and hacked by blades. He had failed. It was over. Everything was over. His clenched fists began to relax, his brow unfurled, and he rolled onto his back, slowly closing his eyes.
BOOM!
The door was kicked open violently, followed by a flurry of chaotic footsteps.
"Oh my god!!!"
"Captain! Captain!"
Voices called his name, but his head had already slumped to the side. He had completely blacked out.
*
New York Hospital.
Steve was rushed into the operating room by a swarm of doctors. Outside, the hallway was packed with "Big Men"—people who held real power. They were on their phones with frantic expressions, exhausting every connection to contact other hospitals and top-tier specialists.
"You must save him!"
That was the command these powerful figures repeated to the doctors over and over again. Steve Rogers was more than a man; his name carried an immense aura. He was the faith of the American people, the undefeated hero of WWII, a living legend. Since he was an icon of faith, he could not be allowed to fall. If he did...
Suddenly, a commotion broke out at the elevators. Nick Fury arrived, flanked by Black Widow. He wore his usual black trench coat, his expression as cold and stony as ever. Upon seeing him, the powerful officials immediately swarmed them, shouting in a rage.
"Fury, what did you promise me? Look at what you've done!"
"How does S.H.I.E.L.D. even operate? The Joker organization pulls off a plot this big and you had zero intel beforehand?"
"I'm telling you! If anything happens to Steve, I'll personally see you in front of a military court!"
Veins bulged on their necks as they screamed, spit flying into Fury's face. It wasn't that they particularly loved Steve; it was because Steve was tied to too many political interests. If he died in the hospital today, a new wave of protests would erupt across the country. To appease public anger, the higher-ups would ruthlessly fire them all. When their careers and livelihoods were on the line, how could they not be nervous?
The priority was clear: besides saving Steve, they had to nail down someone to take the blame. And without question, S.H.I.E.L.D. was going to be the scapegoat.
Fury stood there being verbally assaulted, yet his face showed no hint of anger, nor did he offer a single word of rebuttal. He simply walked to the operating room window, staring through the one-way glass at Steve Rogers.
Once the officials had barked themselves hoarse, Fury finally spoke. "What did he say?"
Natasha, standing beside him, sighed. "He didn't say much. He just asked about Steve's condition and hung up."
"Do you think he'll come?"
"He will."
Fury nodded and sat down on a hallway chair. Natasha sat beside him. To break the silence, he asked, "How is the big guy doing?"
Natasha managed a small smile. "Very cooperative. You can tell he truly wants revenge."
"Strange. Out of everyone in the Bureau, you're the only one who can handle him, and he's only willing to listen to you."
The comment felt a bit loaded. Natasha's smile faded. "I'm a professional. However, even with his cooperation, the experimental progress is still too slow. I'm afraid we'll fall behind the Joker organization."
"Don't worry. I'm here. The sky isn't falling yet," Fury said, his tone suddenly solemn.
"Because of that?" Natasha glanced down. In Fury's hand, he was fiddling with an object that looked like an old-fashioned pager.
"Yes."
"Can I ask what it is? You grab hold of it every time the Joker organization makes a move."
"Don't ask. Just know it's a lifesaver—but it's not something to be used lightly."
Natasha was left in the dark, but since Fury wasn't talking, she didn't push it.
*
The surgery lasted seven hours. Dawn had broken, and the officials had long since departed.
Click.
The operating room door finally opened, and the red light that had been lit for seven hours finally went out.
"Step over here." The lead surgeon glanced at Fury and walked to a quiet corner.
"Doctor, is the situation bad?" Fury followed.
The doctor nodded. "His injuries are catastrophic. While he's out of immediate danger, nearly every bone in his body was broken—especially his spine. He'll likely spend the rest of his life in a wheelchair or a hospital bed."
Fury's heart sank. "Is there no other way?"
The doctor thought for a long moment, then shook his head in silence.
"Have you tried exoskeleton technology?"
Fury whipped his head around at the sound of the voice. Wearing a flashy shirt and tight slacks, with large sunglasses covering his face, the newcomer still wore that you owe me five million dollars punchable expression.
"Stark!"
Tony gave a slight nod in response, clearly not in the mood for small talk. The doctor, ignoring the tension between the two, mused, "I know about exoskeleton tech, but that technology..."
Tony didn't wait for him to finish. He tapped his watch, and a holographic projection flickered into the air. "This is Stark Industries' latest tech. It's beyond that obsolete exoskeleton crap..."
Tony and the doctor dove into an intense discussion about the plan's feasibility, leaving the S.H.I.E.L.D. brass standing to the side. Fury and Natasha shared a look; a small smile touched her lips. This was their first meeting since their fallout in Los Angeles.
As the talk went on, the lead surgeon grew more excited, and more specialists joined the circle. Half an hour later, the meeting ended. The medical team announced excitedly that there was hope Steve might stand again.
After scheduling the surgery, Tony put his sunglasses back on and prepared to leave without so much as a goodbye—the classic do the deed and vanish routine.
Fury gave a subtle nod, and Natasha, catching the signal, jogged after him in her boots. In the parking lot, Tony was about to pull away in a new Audi. The guy was really planning on just leaving. Natasha blocked the front of the car and tapped on the window.
"What?" Tony rolled the window down.
"Um..." Natasha hesitated, seeing his dark expression. S.H.I.E.L.D. and Stark had burned their bridges, yet here they were, shamelessly asking for his help. Even if it wasn't for personal gain, she felt they owed him.
"Save the 'thank you.' I don't want it, and I didn't save him for you," Tony said coldly, showing no mercy. "And don't get too excited. Even if the surgery is a success, the Captain will just be an ordinary man from now on. Don't expect him to keep risking his life for you people."
After those stinging words, he rolled up the window and drove out of the lot.
Natasha let out a helpless sigh. The first attempt to repair the relationship was a total failure.
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You can read advance chapters and view R-18 images of the characters on pat reon page.
pat reon.com/GreenBlue17
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