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barnesafterglow · 1 year

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no other shade of blue

summary: your life is nothing but pure cold, until the day they pull steve rogers out of the ice

pairing: steve rogers x fem!reader

word count: 2.2k

warnings: soulmate au, fluff, not-quite angst??, shield still can't handle their shit but maria hill sure can, maria x natasha till i die, the overwhelming potential for a part 2

a/n: so i ironically started this on the fourth of july, and decided roughly 24 hours ago that i was going to finish it so. here it is.

masterlist ─ i no longer have a taglist but you can follow @theafterglowlibrary to stay updated on when i post 🤍

The first memory you had was of a bitter cold. Before happy memories in a sprawling backyard and cartoon band aids on a scraped knee, there was the brutal chill that seeped into your bones, into every inch of your being.

Though your own memory didn’t serve you, the first moment your mother had with you was much the same - a baby girl laid on her bare chest, only to flinch at the feeling of ice on her skin.

You spent countless years being poked and prodded, every medical test at the disposal of your doctors, and then specialists, and then scientific journals, and an answer was never found. In every other sense of your wellbeing, you were fine. Your organs worked, and there was never any danger of losing your extremities, so they stopped looking for answers and told you to move on.

Eventually, you were resigned to sweaters even at the height of summer, and whispered prayers that your soulmate didn’t have to endure the same icy existence.

You learned to live with it, and your friends learned to keep their distance at sleepovers and movie nights, and boyfriends and girlfriends alike never stuck around for long. It was hard to love someone who only offered cold hands instead of a warm heart.

For all it deterred your love life, the cold had no effect on your studies, and you excelled in the sciences, graduating with honors and securing a job at SHIELD just weeks after you got your degree.

You were puttering around your corner of the lab, pulling your sweater tighter around you despite the warmth of summer in Manhattan outside the floor to ceiling windows, when Maria Hill entered through the sliding glass doors, as frazzled as you had ever seen her.

“You’re going to want to see this,” is all she said before she turned on her heel and headed for the elevator. You managed to slide in just as the doors closed, more than a little bewildered at her behavior. You knew SHIELD and their plethora of secrets, but there were few things that were wrapped up so tight that they couldn’t even be spoken about in the safety of your lab.

“Male, approximately 27 years old, possibility of severe hypothermia but… we really don’t know.” Her voice was hushed, like she couldn’t bear to admit that they didn’t know.

“I’m not a medical doctor, Maria. A PhD doesn’t mean I can see patients, no matter who or what they are.” You closed your eyes, taking a deep breath as the elevator descended far below street level. It was going to be one of those days. “Why are you coming to me about this?”

“We don’t need you as a doctor, we need you as a scientist. He’s been frozen in ice for almost 60 years. We have no idea what to expect when he wakes up. If he wakes up.” She reached over to squeeze your arm, your best friend shining through the facade of your Deputy Director, for just a moment. “It’s Steve Rogers.”

Your jaw dropped, but you weren’t able to formulate a response before the elevator doors slid open, and the immediate bustle of SHIELD agents stole any comment you may have had. She released her grip on you and straightened up, leading you through the winding maze of SHIELD’s underground headquarters, before stopping at a steel door with more security than you had ever seen.

Maria nodded at the two junior agents, putting her hand to the biometric scanner as soon as they stepped aside, and you followed her inside, proud of yourself for barely flinching as the heavy metal slid to a close behind you.

The first thing you noticed was the fact that you could see your breath in the air, which was odd considering the room felt no different in temperature than the one you had just come from, then you followed her gaze to the center of the room.

It was, without any other way to describe it, a huge block of ice. It didn’t necessarily look out of the ordinary, but even from across the room, you could see the lines of distorted red, white, and blue peaking through. And there, as you finally got the courage to step closer, was the unmistakable face of Captain America.

You got the strangest urge, then, to reach out and touch his partially covered face, to see if his frozen temperature rivaled your own, when someone cleared their throat, and you looked up to see a handful of people watching you curiously.

Embarrassed, you stepped back into place beside Maria and waited for further instruction.

After that it’s… a bit of a blur. There were a flurry of more senior scientists than you, and you wondered again Maria needed you there when her team was more than capable. You more or less stood in the corner and watched with your best friend as they took what looked like glorified hair dryers and began melting away Captain America’s icy tomb.

Once the block had melted away and he laid there in his battered stars and stripes, he was hooked up to more machines than you knew their purpose. The only one you could focus on was the heart monitor directly in front of you.

It was a daunting flat line, a slow, steady beep, no indicator of any sign of life. It was a long shot, you all knew that - even you, so out of the loop but kept in the room anyways. He had been at the bottom of the Atlantic for 66 years, and only the grace of god or Abraham Erskine could save him now.

Maria, who always knew more than she ever let on, motioned you towards his side, and you almost gave into your earlier impulse to brush your fingertips against the stark blue of his lips when the monitor changed. A small blip, but enough for a flurry of activity to cascade through the room, and you were pushed right back into the corner where you had been for what felt like hours.

It wasn’t until the monitor was beating in a steady rhythm and Maria finally ushered you back to the upper levels that you realized you weren’t quite so cold anymore.

–

It had been two days since Steve Rogers came out of the ice, and you had steadily felt your body temperature rising. It was odd, feeling warm - like an actual human, because that typically only came with copious amounts of alcohol and a heated blanket.

You hadn’t heard any more news about him, besides the hope they had to slowly acclimate him to the 21st century. Maria had been very tight lipped about the entire situation, and you had a feeling it was more than just the fact that it was a highly top secret SHIELD project, as they usually were.

But you couldn’t help the undeniable pull you had towards him, the sneaking suspicion that it was more than a scientific draw that had you almost desperate to see him, to know how he was progressing.

It was on the fourth day that you reach the average body temperature - something you had never before achieved in your life - which also happened to be the day SHIELD fucked up irreparably on their exposure of Steve to the new world.

Roughly an hour after they managed to draw him away from the streets of Manhattan and back to SHIELD, Maria appeared at your apartment door.

“You need to see him.”

“Why?” you asked, but you were already grabbing your shoes, following her out to the car still running at the curb.

She said nothing until she was behind the wheel, giving you a look somewhere between sympathy and excitement.

“I found out Natasha was my soulmate when we were sparring. She broke my nose - by accident, she swears - and felt it on her own. She kissed me right there, in front of junior agents and with blood streaming down my face.”

You remembered when she burst into your lab minutes later, blood still on her face and gripping Natasha’s hand; she was so excited to tell you.

“I know the story, Maria. Why are you telling me?”

“I’m just saying, meeting your soulmate isn’t always,” she paused, searching for the word, “conventional.”

It rarely was, when so many found their soulmate in the form of pain - spilling searing hot coffee on them and feeling the sting of the burn or a papercut when there was no way for you to get one, but your soulmate had.

There were, of course, cute meetings, like feeling the squeeze of a hug too tight or the pinch of a cheek from a grandmother, but it didn’t happen often. Soulmates didn’t happen very often.

You weren’t even sure if you believed in them; there was no science behind it. Nothing besides the words of love struck couples.

Which is why you were confused by Maria bringing it up. She knew your stance, even after seeing her relationship with Nat.

“I want you to meet Steve,” she said as you pulled into the garage at SHIELD.

You just looked at her, trying to keep your face blank, waiting for further explanation.

“I think he might be yours. Your soulmate, I mean. It makes sense, him being in the ice and you…” she gestured in your direction, “being cold.”

It sounded stupid, it sounded insane, but you trusted Maria’s judgement, and, if nothing else, you could at least say you tried.

When you met Steve, it was in a model SHIELD apartment - sleek and modern and nothing even close to a home - with Maria hovering by the door, waiting to save you if you said the word.

“Hi.” You weren’t sure if he knew why you were even here, so you just started with introducing yourself, telling him you worked for SHIELD.

“I know who you are.” He flushed a pretty pink across his face. “Well, I think I do, anyways.”

You felt your own face heat up and, praying he couldn’t tell, you stuck your arm out to shake his hand.

He must not have known his own strength; his grip on your hand was so tight you flinched a little, and he looked at his own hand in wonder.

“I… I felt that,” he said, sounding just as amazed as he looked. “So, it’s true?”

“I don’t know, I didn’t feel anything. Can I…?” He nodded and you deliberated for a moment before pinching him in the side. Well, you tried at least. The skin there was taunt, and your mouth watered a little at the thought of it.

Snapping yourself out of it, you realized you hadn’t felt anything, and your heart dropped. You knew you shouldn’t have gotten your hopes, should never have gotten in the car with Maria, shouldn’t-

“That didn’t hurt.”

“What?”

“It didn’t hurt. That was a baby pinch, you’ll have to do better.” The corner of his mouth turned up into something akin to a smirk, and you felt like you were being made fun of. “I’m not making fun of you, I swear.” Did you say that out loud? “It just takes more than that to hurt me.”

“I’m not going to hurt you, Steve.”

“That’s kind of the whole point of this, sweetheart.” His face flushed red again - even more than before - at his slip of the tongue, but Maria saved you both.

By making her way over and punching Steve in the stomach. He curled over just a bit, and you felt a pressure - something like a punch - in your abdomen. When you looked back up at him, there were tears in your eyes. But not from the pain. No, this was pure joy at finding your soulmate.

It was then that you noticed the calm presence of him, it was as if he soothed every pain you had ever felt, like he was taking it all away. It was as if he were a balm to your very soul.

You were so entranced with each other that you didn’t notice Maria slowly making her way out of the room. All you could see was a deep sea of blue, staring at you with the same intensity you felt burrow into your chest.

You took a step closer to him, then two, three, until you were so close you could feel the heat radiating from his body. Your eyes flitted down to his lips, and you knew he was doing the same to you.

Maybe it was too soon, but no one knew the magic of soulmates, the insatiable need to touch them, unless you were the one experiencing it. So when Steve dipped his head to kiss you, it just felt right.

There were no fireworks or sparks, no fanfare or an immediate need to act on any desires. There was only one word you could use to describe Steve Rogers.

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