DAYWALKER | n.romanoff ✔

THREE

CHAPTER THREE
' IMAGINING THIS
CEILING IS YOUR
FACE. '

Out of the corner of her eye, she watched as Rogers grasped Romanoff and drove under a hole in the ground, bringing the shield to protect them. She let out a sigh. 'For fuck's sake.' She turned in a circle before diving under a table to the furthest corner. She curled into a ball, tucking her head into her knees as the sound of the missile grew louder and louder.

Blood!

She flew back, a 'fuck!' escaping her lips as she soared through the air. Pieces of concrete swarmed around her, the whole ordeal seeming to go in slow motion as parts of a computer flew past her ears. She hit a section of concrete, another curse leaving her lips before she slumped on the ground, her body curling around it.

Dust drifted through the air before sinking towards the ground in small puffs. Silence sat evenly, pieces of beams sticking upwards and preventing the ceiling from caving in over the Blade's lifeless form.

A piece of rubble shuffled, and Rogers emerged from under his shield, pulling Romanoff out after him and laying her on the ground, her body unconscious. He looked around the destruction before he carefully moved towards the Blade, his face unreadable as he tested each step in a measured way. He reached her side and gently lowered to a knee by her side as he lifted a hand.

'Touch me, and I'll cut off your balls and shove them down your throat,' she rasped out, and Rogers jumped back. He stared down at her as she slowly unfolded, her face pulling into a sharp grimace.

Blood!

Blood God!

'How are you still ali-'

'-I never die.' She pulled herself to her feet, lifting a hand to scratch her head, the grimace never leaving her face. 'Although, that's no fault of yours.' She glanced over his shoulder. 'But even so, I'm glad it was, judging by the unconsciousness of our fiery friend over there.' She began off, lifting a hand to grasp her back as she hobbled over the debris. 'Fuck, do you always feel like this?' she croaked out, stopping just a few distances away from Romanoff's head. She stared down at her for a moment before looking back at Rogers. 'Well?'

Blood.

He lifted his chin. 'How do I know I can trust you?'

She was silent for a moment. 'You don't,' she answered. 'We're the only people who can take down Hydra. We, for once, have a common interest; taking down a dictatorship-in-the-making. I won't try and kill you as long as we're on the same side.'

'The nuke you sent to New York says otherwise,' he gritted out.

Blood.

She rolled her eyes. 'Oh, potatoes, potatoes.' She waved a hand. 'Listen, I could have killed you both countless times in the last five minutes. Have I killed you? No. Are you grateful? Clearly not!' A sarcastic smile grew on her face. 'Look, I don't have time or enough patience to make you trust me. But I know for sure that we're going to have a squadron of Hydra soldiers checking if we're dead. And in case it slipped your notice, we're not. Are you getting my train of thought? I hope you are.'

Blood God.

She turned back, kicking some rubble away from in front of the surprisingly still intact elevator with a sharp curse, her hand still on her back. Rogers let out a sigh before moving to Romanoff's side and sweeping her into his arms. He followed after the Blade as the doors slid open. She leant against the metal of the wall, letting out a heavy exhale as she rested her helmeted head against it.

Blood God!

Rogers let out another sigh as the doors shut in front of them.

Blood?