Saving Steve (Steve Rogers x Reader)

|| Chapter 11 - Tasers and Tunnels ||

"You deaf or what?" the large man growls. "She's ours!"

Suddenly the large man approaching lunges, landing a powerful blow on the big one. In a matter of seconds, all three are in a dark heap of shadows on the ground, trading blows as grunts and smacks and growls fill the air, bouncing around the empty tunnel.

Panicked, you make a mad dash towards where you had heard your bag fall to the ground. Your phone is inside. A landline to help. 

Dropping to your knees in the dirt only an arm's length away from the scuffle, you feel around blindly in the dark, gasping in relief when your fingers curl around the strap. You pull open the zipper and reach inside, but you're pulled across the dirt by a hand that grabs onto your ankle.

"LET ME GO!" you scream, letting loose wild kicks. 

Your foot makes contact with something, and you hear a loud grunt followed by a sharp hiss of pain. You crawl frantically away from the scuffle back towards your bag, managing to reach in and grab Blair's taser.

A loud smack, followed by two heavy thuds from nearby causes you to let out a shriek as you flip the side switch on the taser. 

A hand grabs your shoulder and you spin around, driving the taser straight into the chest of the man grabbing you. You feel his body seize, but you don't pull away, pressing the taser even more firmly into your attacker.

"Y/n...stop!"

You gasp and withdraw the taser as you watch the large silhouetted figure drop to the ground on its knees, clutching its side and gasping, trying to catch its breath.

"You?" you whisper, reaching into your bag once more and finally finding your phone, turning on the flashlight with fumbling fingers. Holding it up to the kneeling figure in front of you, your jaw drops as a pair of bright blue eyes stare back.

You drop to your knees and reach out both hands, taking his face between your palms and tucking a piece of his shaggy blonde hair behind his ear.

"You...?" you say again, breathlessly. The man seems to relax into your touch, his eyes closing for a moment. "How did you...where have you...?"

You trail off, simply taking in his features, unable to finish your question as the relief of seeing him once more leaves you weak.

"You got my letter?" he asks quietly, opening his eyes once more and searching yours.

You nod, your thumb lightly sweeping across his cheek as you keep his face in your tender grasp.

Suddenly, the man winces as his arm wraps around his body, grabbing his side. At his movement, you remember that you just tased him.

"Oh God...oh no I-I..I'm so sorry," you stammer, crouching and putting your arms beneath the man's shoulders, helping to lift him to his feet. "Are you okay?" you ask, adrenaline still coursing through your veins. "I didn't know it was you!"

"What in the blue blazes was that?" the man grimaces. "Merciful jaybird that hurt," he grumbles.

You stifle a laugh at his strange, dated expressions as you pull one of the man's arms around your shoulders. Letting him use you as support the two of you hobble out of the tunnel and back towards your car.

"My taser. Bee's taser, actually," you say, focused on keeping your balance while supporting the man's heavy weight, and clutching your bag in one hand.

"Taser?" the man asks.

"Yeah. Taser," you answer, perplexed at his confusion. Your zap must have scrambled his brains more than you thought.

You guide the man back across the street, putting distance between you and the camp. Once there, the man leans against your car and you duck out from underneath his arm, the nearby streetlamp letting you get a good look at him in for the first time.

He looks better than the last time you had seen him. And worse. His face is nearly healed from the cuts and bruises you had seen a few weeks ago. But the bags beneath his eyes are darker. The creases in his face set deeper. Your eyes travel down his body to his chest, stopping on two small burns in his t-shirt.

"How are you still standing?" you muse aloud, reaching out two fingers and gently touching the burn marks on his shirt.

The man simply laughs as he grimaces. Your gaze drifts down his torso, right where he holds his side. Nearly the exact same spot he had been holding two weeks ago.

But this time blood is seeping through his t-shirt.

"I guess they got me," the man laughs, watching your gaze widen. Slowly, he lifts up the edge of his t-shirt. You feel the bile rise in your throat and choke it back down as a gnarly stab wound has split the skin, slicing over the scar of the dog bite.

You close your eyes and look away, putting a hand over your mouth as you fight your nausea. A little bit of blood you can handle. But this much? And the split skin?

You take a deep breath as the man lowers his shirt and gazes at you with concern.

"You should get out of here," he says suddenly, pushing himself from the side of your car.

"Yeah," you agree. You reach into your bag and grab your keys. "Come on."

The man looks at you, confused.

"What?" you ask. "Come on, let's go. I don't want to hang around here," you say, gesturing towards the tunnel.

"I...I appreciate the concern, ma'am, but-"

You cast a bewildered glance up at the man. "You were just stabbed. I can't just let you just wander off to bleed out or something!"

"I've been stabbed before," the man laughs. "I'll be fine."

"But have you been tased before?" you ask, hands on your hips.

"No ma'am I can say with certainty I haven't."

"Exactly. So just get in the car," you say, your patience running out.

A small smile crawls across the mans lips at your assertiveness.

"Sorry," you say bashfully, suddenly aware of how demanding your tone had been. And surprised by how comfortable you felt in issuing an order to this man. "I just...listen. I sent 50,000 volts of electricity through your body for like, a full minute."

The man's brow arches at the mention of the voltage as if he's surprised. His eyes wander down to his chest, and he fingers the burn holes on his shirt for a moment before looking back at you and opening his mouth to speak. But you beat him to it.

"I'm either taking you with me, or I'm dropping you off at a hospital," you say, crossing your arms defiantly. "Which I highly doubt is what you want based on our little 'smoke and mirrors' show at the shelter."

The man glances around the empty street nervously. "Y/n, I don't think that's a good idea."

"There's no one out here," you counter, suddenly reminded of those blurry surveillance photos. "No one's watching us."

"Not right now. But-"

"I'll let you out in the back of the apartment complex. Come up the fire escape. I'll leave the window open," you say, interrupting.

The man's brow furrows as he looks at you in surprise.

"What?" you ask, shrugging. "I've been stalked before. I know how it goes. At least this time it's not a mentally deranged and abusive ex," you laugh.

The man presses his lips together, clearly not finding the humor in the circumstances of your past. "Okay," he says unwillingly.

"Thank you," you say gently, reaching out and taking his hand in yours.

As you slide your hand into his, your heart skips as you feel him tighten his grip, lacing his fingers between your own as you guide him around the car. You've held his hand before, but he's never actually interlaced your fingers. You bite back your smile and open his car door to help him inside, and find yourself almost wishing you had walked from the shelter rather than driven just to have an excuse to keep his hand in yours.