Summary: Steve and Natasha decide to go to Times Square to watch the ball drop this year instead of watching it with the team on Tony's TV. As it turns out, it's super easy for anyone to take a gun anywhere and their first date of the new year ends with them in the hospital.

Involves a mass shooting, so do not read if that will trigger you.

"Nat, come on," Steve said, tugging on her hand. She'd been arguing with Sam and Rhodey for the past five minutes and if they didn't get to Times Square in the next few minutes, they wouldn't have a good spot.

"Oh cool it, Cap," Tony replied, smirking when Steve sent him an annoyed glare. "She just wants to make sure there's a place for you two to come back to so you can open your new year with unimaginable sex."

"Tony, I will throw you off the roof," Natasha warned, finally conceding to Steve's tugging and allowing him to pull her to the elevator.

Tony just grinned and waved happily as he walked into the living room to join Pepper on the couch. Wanda and Vision were eating popcorn on the floor while Sam and Rhodey argued about something Natasha had said. Before she could go back and correct them, Steve closed the elevator doors and they left.

"You know, if we get stuck with a bunch of weirdos and a horrible viewing spot, it's your fault," Steve warned. Natasha rolled her eyes as she tucked her hands into the crook of his elbow. "Just saying. You know how Times Square gets."

"I don't even know why you want to go," she muttered, leaning against him. "It's one of the biggest events of the year and you want to be a tourist stuck in a massive crowd."

"It's the experience we're going for," Steve reminded her. He kissed the top of her head and walked with her out of the elevator. "Not everyone can say they've been to Times Square on New Year's Eve and as a New York native, I think we should be ashamed this is the first time we've been."

"Either that or considered lucky," Natasha mumbled.

Steve elbowed her and she swatted his arm before tucking herself up against him once again. Steve knew she had never liked big crowds; she always said it reminded her of being on a mission which automatically put her on edge. Anyone could hide in a crowd and if they didn't pay attention, they wouldn't notice them until it was too late.

"Relax," Steve told her, kissing her head a couple times just because he wanted to. "There's police everywhere and I'm right here. You don't have to go full-mission mode."

"It's a habit," she replied, tugging tighter on his arm as they neared Times Square.

"Well, then pretend you're on a mission and I'm your target," Steve said. Natasha looked up at him and raised an eyebrow.

"You're my target?" she asked, obviously doubtful about the idea.

"Yeah," Steve nodded eagerly. "I'm the target and your mission is to make this the best New Year's Eve for me."

"What happens if I fail?" Natasha mused, smiling up at him. He could tell she was already ignoring the crowd of people walking along with them towards the Square and resisted the urge to feel proud of himself.

"If you fail?" he asked, stalling to think up something that would actually motivate her not to fail. "If you fail, you have to cook the entire team food for every meal and work with Tony and Sam in their hand-to-hand every day after practice for a month."

"What?" she exclaimed, jaw dropping. Steve nodded. "That's not fair!"

"Then I guess you don't want to fail," he teased.

Natasha glared at him but didn't back down. She nodded once to herself then pulled Steve over to a churro stand. It went unsaid they would get churros tonight, so Steve had grabbed cash before leaving. After getting their churros, they walked around Times Square, trying to decide on the best vantage point, before stopping at a place they both agreed had a good view.

One of the unfortunate things about going early enough to get a good spot was that once there, they had to stay for a while. They hadn't arrived at noon like many tourists had, but it was still two hours before the performances began and they had to find some way to entertain themselves. Fans from all around that recognised them made sure not to let them get too bored, though whether this was a pro or con was undecided. When Christina Aguilar finally stepped out to perform, they no longer had to play "I Spy" (much to Steve's relief) and listened to the performance.

* * * * *

By the time the performances had stopped and there was only half an hour before the ball would drop, Natasha was well past exhausted. Steve was doing well at keeping nearby kids happy by answering questions and talking to them, but all Natasha wanted to do was burrow under their covers and hide for a week. Too many people drained her and the hundreds of thousands surrounding her were no exception. She was glad she and Steve had managed to get out of the Tower without the team, but she preferred quiet nights in locally owned restaurants to large events any day.

"Only two minutes," Steve said, pulling Natasha out of her thoughts.

She blinked a couple of times to get her bearings then glanced at Steve's watch. Sure enough, there were only two more minutes before the ball would drop. She knew it would be an easy hour before they'd get back to the Tower with the crowd around them, but at least they were almost done.

"Next year, we're staying in the Tower," she told him.

Steve smiled softly and kissed her forehead. She let herself curl closer to him, wrapping her arms around his torso (she was cuddly when she was tired, okay? No big deal).

"Thanks for coming with me," he murmured, rubbing her back.

"As if I'd let you come alone," she scoffed. She smiled and pulled back to look at him. "You'd get lost in the crowd after the first hour and call the Tower asking us to come get you."

"Hey!" he protested. Natasha grinned and Steve leaned down to kiss her shortly. "It would definitely have been more boring," he admitted.

Natasha just hummed and moved to lay her head back on his chest before freezing. Steve immediately felt her tense and looked down at her to make sure she was okay.

"Something's wrong," she said, looking around the crowd. She couldn't explain it, but she could tell something wasn't right.

"What's going on?" he asked, pulling her back to him when she tried to step away.

"Not sure," she muttered, squeezing his hand gently. She didn't stop looking around the crowd even when everyone began to count down.

Her heart hammered in her chest and she tried to see what was wrong, but nothing seemed out of the ordinary.

Maybe I'm just tired, she thought.

Nonetheless, she didn't relax. Her gut was rarely wrong and she wasn't going to doubt it now; not when so many people might be depending on her for their safety.

Just as everyone began to cheer and confetti started to rain down on them, Natasha saw it. Her eyes widened as a man pulled out a gun.

"Get down!" she screamed, tearing herself away from Steve and shoving the people around her to the ground.

The gunman was right beside them and she watched his eyes widen as he realised he'd been spotted before getting even one shot out. Natasha shoved Steve to the ground as the man pointed the gun in their direction and she threw herself at him.

Before she could knock him over, he fired two times at her. Natasha felt the bullets rip through her abdomen and pull her backward. She gasped as she hit the ground hard and a hand immediately went to her stomach. Warm blood soaked her clothes, wool coat and all, but she ignored it to try and sit up. Someone nearby forced her back down, but she managed to glimpse Steve as he knocked the man unconscious and broke his gun before the only thing she could see were panicking strangers and the crowd around her.

A second later, the strangers' faces were replaced by Steve's terrified one as he hovered above her. She tried to focus on him instead of the crowd closing in on them, but it was hard when there was so much else distracting her.

"I'm calling Tony," Steve said, grabbing her hand desperately and holding his phone up to his ear. He looked from her face to her bleeding abdomen, seeming to have a hard time deciding what to do.

When Natasha coughed a second later, she tasted blood on her tongue. She grimaced and Steve's hands shot to her stomach.

She could hear people yelling and running, could see Steve's mouth moving as he cried on the phone for Tony to come and find them, but it was all a blur. She'd been shot before, but something about this was different. It didn't hurt like it normally did and she felt more calm than panicked as she laid on the ground, bleeding out from the two bullet wounds.

"Natasha! Natasha, stay with me," Steve pleaded, dropping his phone and desperately cupping her face.

She took a staggered breath and forced herself to look at him.

"Tony's coming, just stay awake. Stay awake, Nat!" he demanded. Natasha nodded but her eyes were already drooping despite Steve's order. "Natasha!" he screamed, shaking her harshly.

She groaned as pain shot through her body, but Steve didn't apologise.

She looked away from Steve's face and up at the sky.

When is Tony coming? she wondered to herself. Steve seemed to really want her to stay awake for Tony, but Tony wouldn't care if she just took a short nap. She tried to close her eyes again, but Steve shook her, purposely angering her wounds and causing her to whine in pain.

"I'm sorry," he cried, tears streaming down his face. "I'm sorry, but do not close your eyes, Natasha."

"Clear out!" a metallic voice demanded from above them.

Steve looked up to see Iron Man and War Machine descending on the crowd like gods. The crowd parted for them and Tony knelt on the ground. His suit whirred then a small device appeared. Tony covered the bullet wounds with a white, sticky material then gently lifted Natasha into his arms. She hissed and Tony softly apologised.

"Cap," Rhodey said, offering Steve a hand. Steve grabbed his hand and both Iron Man and War Machine shot into the air, speeding towards the Tower.

Iron Man was the first to arrive and didn't wait for War Machine and Steve before taking Natasha to medical. When Steve came sprinting into the medical wing, the doctors had already taken Natasha and Tony was sitting alone in the waiting room.

"Where is she?" Steve demanded, eyes wide as he came to an abrupt stop in front of Tony.

"Surgery," Tony answered. He patted the seat beside him but Steve didn't sit.

Steve paced in front of him, fingers tapping as he busied himself to his thoughts. About a minute later, the rest of the team came bursting through the doors to demand what happened. Wanda immediately went to Steve and hugged him tightly, silencing all other questions. Steve didn't hesitate to hug her back and bury his face in her hair. A few seconds later, muffled sobs could be heard.

"It's all over the news," Rhodey murmured, fiddling with his hands as he sat beside Tony. Sam numbly sat beside Rhodey, staring at the ground as he listened to Tony and Rhodey talk quietly. "No information on who was shot, but it looks like there weren't any other injuries."

"How'd you find out?" Tony asked, glancing up at Sam.

"Wanda," he said blankly, watching Steve continue to shake in Wanda's arms. He was covered in blood—Natasha's blood, he realised. "She could feel the terror coming from the medical wing. Besides, you two left without saying anything other than "They've been shot" which is really a horrible way to leave your teammates."

"Sorry," Tony muttered.

The waiting room went silent as they all sat in anticipation. No one came out with updates and no one wanted to ask in case they jinxed it. Instead, they sat impatiently in the waiting room, silently fidgeting until a doctor finally walked in.

Steve stood up immediately. He wobbled, but Wanda and Sam were on either side of him and reached out to steady him. He still hadn't changed, refusing to leave until Natasha was alright, and no one had wanted to force him to do anything. Only Vision and Rhodey had left a couple of times and that was to get food for the others.

"How is she?" Steve asked, voice rough from all his crying. "Can I see her?"

"She's unstable," the doctor told him. Steve stopped breathing. "One of the bullets hit a major artery and she flat lined twice during the surgery. We had to pull her out just to let her rest and will be taking her back into surgery once she becomes stable."

"No," Steve muttered.

Wanda stood beside him and gently touched his arm. He jumped as if he hadn't realised she was right there and turned to face her sharply. When he realised it was just her, he calmed down.

"How long until she's stable?" Sam asked. The doctor pursed his lips and gave a small shrug.

"We can't be sure she will be stable."

Steve dropped down into his chair and buried his face in his hands. The doctor continued to talk, saying something Steve figured was probably important, but he wasn't listening.

This was all his fault. He never should have insisted they go to Times Square when they could have just watched the ball drop from the safety of the Tower. God, he should have listened to Natasha. She was always right when it came down to emergencies and she'd told him tonight wasn't a good night. Now she was fighting for her life because he hadn't thought quickly enough to stop her from throwing herself at the gunman. Some hero he was.

"No," Wanda interrupted, shaking Steve to pull him from his thoughts. He looked up at her, feeling more tears cover his face. "She would have thrown herself at him either way and you know it. She wouldn't have let him shoot other people."

"But I still could have done something," Steve said lamely. Wanda shook her head.

"You did," she assured him. "You called Stark and you stopped the guy after she couldn't. This is not your fault and she'll agree with me when she wakes up."

"She isn't going to wake up!" Steve yelled. Wanda glared at him, not flinching at his outburst.

"She's going to wake up and she's going to punch you in the gut just to prove it," Wanda snapped.

Steve frowned as she abruptly got up and left the medical wing. With a sigh, Steve buried his face in his hands again and forced himself not to cry. This was not how tonight was supposed to go.

* * * * *

When the doctors finally allowed the team back to see Natasha two full days later, Steve nearly collapsed by her bed. He hadn't slept at all during the time and the only reason he was no longer wearing bloodied clothes was because Sam had brought down a fresh shirt and pants and demanded he change. He'd threatened to make sure the doctors didn't update him until he'd changed and before he could even finish the threat, Steve was pulling off his shirt.

Now, seeing Natasha lying on a hospital bed, pale and connected to all sorts of machines and devices, Steve felt all his exhaustion hit him full force. He stumbled to the chair beside her bed and grabbed her hand. The beeping of the heart monitor calmed him and he finally relaxed for the first time since Natasha had been shot. Tony was talking to the doctor about something Steve was pretty sure he wanted to hear, but he could hardly keep his eyes open as he leaned forward and laid his head on the bed.

"Go to sleep, Steve," Wanda whispered softly, rubbing his back.

Steve had half a mind to turn and see if she was using her powers to lull him to sleep, but he wasn't too concerned.

"We'll watch her," Sam promised. Steve just nodded sleepily as he drifted off, already forgetting he was still in the hospital.

* * * * *

Just because the team was allowed back to see Natasha didn't mean things cleared up. Sam and Wanda could convince Steve to leave in order to shower or change and Tony could calm Steve's worries by explaining what happened to someone while in a coma, but it was still difficult to do normal life. Steve refused to leave the Tower at all, meaning any missions that needed him were given to Tony and other team members instead. Steve knew ignoring his duties as an Avenger wasn't helping anyone, but he couldn't leave Natasha in case something happened.

"Everything looks good," the doctor said after a routine checkup a few days after she'd stabilised. "She should wake up any day now."

"Thank you," Steve said, returning to his spot beside her bed.

He sidled up right next to her and opened his sketchbook. Instead of drawing Natasha on her hospital bed like Sam had accused him of earlier, he continued his drawing of her from a few hours before the attack. The lights surrounding them had lit up her face perfectly and Steve could recall watching her laugh at something he'd said during their game of "I Spy". So rather than draw her pale and injured in a medical room, he drew her laughing in the lights around Times Square, bundled up in a hat, scarf, and jacket.

The team stopped by often, checking in on both Steve and Natasha from time to time. Steve hardly looked up when they entered anymore, answering their questions with short remarks as he continued to sketch Natasha. He'd drawn her using her churro as a wand two times before anything in the room changed significantly enough to catch his attention.

At first, it wasn't noticeable; just a sharp intake of breath instead of the dull, normal ones he'd come to find calming. He'd thought he'd misheard and was about to return to his drawing when he heard the unmistakable sound of Natasha moaning in pain.

Steve nearly dropped his sketchbook as he sat upright and reached for her hand.

"Natasha?" he asked quietly, leaning over her and brushing her hair out of her face. She moaned again and a few seconds later, her eyes blinked open. "Oh god, Nat," he breathed, dropping his forehead to hers.

"Steve?" she murmured, squeezing his hand weakly. Steve could feel tears once again forming in his eyes and making their way down his face, but he didn't care.

"You flatlined," he told her, burying his face in her neck and gently draping an arm over her torso. "The doctors said you might not make it through the second surgery and I was so scared when they said you'd flatlined again."

"I'm okay," Natasha mumbled, her voice scratchy from not talking for days. "Did anyone else...?"

"No," Steve answered, pulling back. He brushed the back of his hand against her cheek softly. "No one else was hurt because you threw yourself at a gunman."

"Steve," Natasha groaned, closing her eyes in annoyance. Steve didn't argue anymore, leaving it at that. "For what it's worth, you would have done the same thing."

"I know," he muttered, grabbing her hand again and pulling it up to his lips. "I know and I know I've done it before and for that, I'm sorry. God, I was so scared."

"Hey," Natasha said softly, stretching her fingers out to cup his face gently. "I'm okay."

Unable to respond, Steve just nodded. His lip wobbled as more tears began to drip down his cheeks without his consent. Natasha's face softened and she gently pulled him close. He carefully climbed onto the bed beside her and curled around her, making sure not to hurt her in the process. Natasha wrapped her arms around him and gently ran her fingers through his hair. He cried until he didn't have any more energy and even then he didn't let go of Natasha.

When Sam came down to check on Steve again, he stopped short in the doorway. Natasha appeared to still be asleep, but Steve had moved onto her bed. While Steve was curled around Natasha, Sam could see Natasha's arms wrapped loosely around Steve, letting him know she'd woken up at some point.

"Traitor," he mumbled.

He rolled his eyes at his friend's obvious disregard for manners when it came to letting other people know their dying teammate had woken up, but he didn't bother them. Instead, he scribbled a quick note on an empty page in Steve's sketchbook and left it open on a chair. Sam smirked at the two of them then silently left the room, shutting the door behind him and going to tell the team that Natasha had woken up and was obviously fine if the way she'd been tucked up close to Steve was any indication of how she was feeling.