Steve rogers x y/n

Chapter 18- cell

Warning: mentions of blood.

The guard clicked a set of numbers into the keypad, then placing his finger onto it, scanning.

"доступ разрешен" (access granted)

They never cared if I saw the combination, which scared me. We're they so sure I would die here? Or did they know it wouldn't accept my fingerprint.

Either way I didn't care. I knew I wouldn't get out this time.

The thick metal door opened revealing a hallway, agents walking up and down, girls from the program I was in scurrying in a line to whatever training they had next. I was only looking for one person. My friend, the redhead whose name I never knew. The last time I saw her she was being loaded into a truck, and now I couldn't find her.

I tried to tug looking down a hallway for her when the agent on my right tightened his grip on my arm, definitely causing bruises to form.

We walked for a while, suddenly into another wing I had never been through before. I knew where they were taking us. I had heard about it.

"зал страданий" (suffering hall)

No one knew what had gone on back here. I've only seen one girl come out alive, she was never the same.
All of my other friends who had been taken back, either never came back or they acted like they never existed.

The agents stopped at a metal door, opening it with a key. They pushed me in, as I landed on the floor, my head thudding against the wall.

The guards walked James in, sitting him on a cot at the corner of the room. A guard pulled me up, sitting me on one opposite from him, taking the cuffs off of me, replacing them with a bracelet on my ankle. It had a black box, blinking green every two seconds.

"это должно заставить вас вести себя" (this should make you behave.)

I glared at him, rubbing the cuts on my wrist that had formed from the cuffs.

They walked out, slamming the door behind them.

"гребаный мудак" (fucking asshole)
I mumbled under my breath.

I heard James shuffle on his cot, leaning his back against the cold concrete. I did the same, staring at him, maybe I could get him to remember.

"James?"
I almost whispered as him head shot up.

"Do you remember?"

He looked at me, the cold steel in his eyes turning to the soft blue ones I had grown to love.

"I remember you, yes. And I remember someone rescuing us. I don't remember anything else after you were shot."

I looked at him with relief, he knows who I am, he knows who Steve is. But he still isn't himself.

I nodded with a slight smile as I groaned in pain over my shoulder obviously needing medical attention.

"Are you okay?"
He asked, worry flooding his face.

"Y-yeah I'll be fine just gotta keep pressure on it."

I could feel my stitches rip when James lifted me, not realizing the blood pouring from the wound.

"Can you uh- look away please? I need to check it."

He nodded as he turned to face the wall.
I pulled up my shirt, lifted my arm out. I had a sports bra on when we left, which was now soaked in blood. I couldn't stop the bleeding. I had been stabbed many times, hell even been shot before but this was different. The bullet went all the way through me.

I winced and groaned in pain, as I could tell James wanted to help, but he also wished to respect my privacy.

I tried to stop the bleeding for a little while longer, holding my shirt on the wound.

"Okay I can't do this anymore I need your help."
James looked at me, the previously white shirt now dark red.

His eyes grew wide as he jumped up, carefully waking over to me.

"Are you sure? I don't want to make you uncomfortable."

I was now struggling to stay away, loosing too much blood.

"Look I'm about to pass out, if you don't help me there might not be a me in the next hour. I don't care if you see my tits just please help."

And with that he sat down next to me, holding the shirt tighter against the injury.

It wasn't working, at least not fast enough. He pulled off his shirt, fastening it around my shoulder. The flowing blood started to slow down. My face felt flushed, my whole body freezing.

"Y/n your really pale. Come on stay awake."

He put his hand on my hairline, trying to keep my head up. I could feel my eyelids becoming heavy. The now small light from the corner of the room had faded. My eyes were closed. I was slowly slipping into the darkness.

When all the sudden I felt a cold strike on my cheek.
My eyes bolted open to see James over me, wide eyed.

"Did you just fucking slap me?"
I mumbled.

"You wouldn't stay awake, I'm sorry." He replied, afraid of my reaction.

I sat up leaning my body against his, as he kept a tight hold on my shoulder.
"It's fine but if you ever slap me again I will beat the shit out of you."

He chuckled, it was nice to hear his laugh. I didn't think I ever had. We stayed like that for what seemed to be hours. Him holding me, my hands squeezing his every two minutes to make sure I was still awake. I knew I couldn't hold on for long like this.

If only we could get out of this cell.