Saving Steve (Steve Rogers x Reader)

|| Chapter 11 - Tasers and Tunnels ||

You say goodbye to Blair and thank her for helping you before she pulls away, leaving you with the last three boxes. 

One by one you carry them through the camp, handing out an assortment of in-kind donations the shelter had received, but hadn't had room to keep.

Now on the last box, you glance towards the tunnel beneath the bridge. A dark and damp area of the camp you haven't really walked into before. 

On the rare occasions you stopped by during the day, you had cast a glance down the tunnel. There are no tents in there, but there are some on the other side. The other half of the little community. 

Your chest tightens as you consider the risk. It's a pretty long walk to the other side. And it's late. But there are people over there, and they deserve to have a shot at these supplies as much as those on this side of the bridge do.

Taking a deep breath, you put one foot in front of the other, walking into the oppressive dark beneath the overpass and keeping your eyes fixed on the other side.

But you don't get far. You're a little less than halfway to the other side when a set of rough hands grabs your shoulders.

You let out a small scream as you drop the box you're holding, but a hand covers your mouth before you have a chance to scream again. Another pair of hands shoves you roughly up against the wet, dirty wall of the tunnel beneath the bridge.

As your eyes adjust to the dark, you make out the faces of two men.

"Take her bag," the big one says as his grip on on your wrists tighten.

"B-but-" stammers the smaller one, whose hand covers your mouth.

"DO IT."

You whimper as the smaller man pulls out a knife and cuts the strap of your crossbody. You wince as you hear it hit the ground.

"Take the box," the big one orders. "And you," he says, looking you straight in the eyes. "Keep your mouth shut. Got it?"

You nod and the small man removes his hand from your mouth as he grabs at the box you dropped, grabbing the various sundries that had fallen out and tossing them back in.

"You can keep it all," you whimper, your heart racing and your breath catching in your lungs. "Just let me leave," you plead.

But the big man doesn't answer. Instead, you feel him press up against you more firmly to hold you in place as he releases your wrists.

You inhale sharply when you feel his hands slide into your back pocket.

"Got any money in these jeans?" the big one snarls, his hands searching for anything you might be carrying. You wince and your stomach churns as he squeezes your ass once before pulling out from your back pockets.

"No, nothing. It's all in my bag," you whimper.

"What about in these front ones?" he whispers with a sick grin.

You feel the tips of his fingers wedging their way into your front pockets when footsteps nearby catch your attention.

You turn your head, as do the two men, and your eyes widen as you see the silhouette of an even larger man making his way towards the three of you.

"Hey man, back off," the big one snarls. "We found her first."

But the large figure speeds up, getting closer. The big man pulls his hands from your front pocket and the small one drops your box and bag. They both pull out knives, and square up to the approaching figure.