𝗗𝗜𝗚𝗜𝗧𝗔𝗟 𝗦𝗜𝗟𝗘𝗡𝗖𝗘

Yellow Light

AEI: Every time I name a chapter after a song or song lyric, I'm now going to link it BECAUSE Y'ALL NEED TO SEE MY VISION 🙏

Anyway, rewrote James and Steve's entire canon chat on the Quinjet because it was BORING and I'm a CREATIVE GENIUS (I'm not, please don't take that seriously 😭) And please just assume that this is a self-driving jet. 

NOTHING INTERESTING HAPPENS IF STEVE STAYS AT THE STEERING WHEEL OK??? I TRIED!!

Anyway...

Isabell's leg is snapped from her knee to the end of her shin, the bones poking against her skin like antlers. They are sharp, painful just to look at. The damage is too much for James to fix by himself.

Crouched in the back of the Quinjet, he settles her flush in his lap and prays that she can't feel anything.

Isabell is knocked out cold. There are hollows carved under her eyes, a loss of control smeared in shadow across her face, and even sleeping, she can't quite seem to find peace. The twitch of a foot, a soft little whimper, all things that tell James that her dreams are mean.

He bounces his knee and wonders what she's thinking about.

From beside him, Steve frowns.

"She OK?"

"No."

James brushes a strand of hair from her face, doing everything he can not to look at his friend. He's tired. They all are, and he can't face his emotions right now. Not when he's busy trying to deal with Isabell's.

She shudders again, nails scratching down his back.

Her nightmares are here. He can't help her. He just has to sit back and watch her suffer.

Why is she always fucking suffering?

Steve's eyes don't leave them. His fingers drum against the steering wheel of the Quinjet, like he wants to say something but is simply too afraid to. James doesn't blame him. He's built a barrier up around himself, turned hostile and cold, because if he's faced with any sort of emotion, he is going to break.

He will not cry. Not in front of Isabell. Not in front of Steve.

Unfortunately, it is not looking like he has much of a choice.

The noise in James' head is loud, roaring, and he blinks back heavy tears. Isabell nuzzles into his chest.

"We need to set her leg." He croaks. Steve glances up.

"Now?"

"No," James clears his throat, "I can't do it. The break's bad, needs a good doctor. Antibiotics. It'll need amputation if I do it wrong."

Steve makes a hissing sound through his teeth. "I'm guessing she's out of action, then?"

"She never should've been in action," James murmurs, angry at his casual manner. Angry at himself. "Bells is a kid, she's a baby. I only let her fight because I couldn't stop her, only let her because I thought she could heal from anything, but her leg..." His voice trails away. "It shouldn't have broken again."

He presses his forehead against Isabell's. She is warm, too warm, and his heart sinks. Fever. Just something else he will need to fix. Something he is not equipped to do.

Fuck.

He turns his head away as Steve slides away from the front seat, coming to sit beside him. A calloused hand rests on his knee. James closes his eyes.