"I can’t leave you." His voice is almost completely gone. His breathing is unsteady, his throat hurts, and his hands are shaking uncontrollably. "I can’t leave you. I can’t do this. I c— I can’t go. I don’t want to go." He pauses and covers his face with both hands. "Fuck, Carol, I don’t — I finally have a fucking reason to live. I don’t want to go. I’m not ready. I…”
The shaking takes over the rest of his body and his lungs are really laboring to keep him conscious. He needs to be held.
God was really fucking hilarious. Too bad his sense of humor seemed to hate her. Her chest hurt, and her eyes were stinging, and she still couldn't breathe, but this wasn't about her, was it? She'd probably call Tony later, or maybe Steve, but right now? It wasn't about her.
All it took was him talking to pull her back to reality and without saying a word, she climbed up into the bed and gently wrapped her fingers around his wrists and tugged his hands away from his face. "It'll be okay. You are the single most stubborn man I have ever met. Don't tell me you're giving up, huh?"
Empty words. Empty sentiment. But, she had to say something. It was killing her to see him like this, and the news that brought her here in the first place was burning on her tongue--but she swallowed it back. It could wait. It would have to wait.
A hand reached out and she brushed her fingers against his cheek, "We're strong. We'll be okay."