Dancing with Embers - Book Two (Winter Soldier)

7. EXO-7 FALCON

Chapter seven:

*All that is gold does not glitter,
Not all those who wander are lost;
The old that is strong does not wither,
Deep roots are not reached by the frost.*

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My vision started coming back when the loud sound of helicopters stirred me from unconsciousness. I was aware of the fact that I was moving, but I was not walking. I felt a hand on my legs and another one around my shoulders, and when I rolled my head to the side I saw Steve carrying me.
"Stay still." He whispered. I blinked slowly as a response and let him sneak the two of us out before STRIKE could get to us. From how I was being held I could see men behind us, all dressed in black and holding machine guns. They were searching through the rubble, looking for us but finding nothing. I closed my eyes and prayed we would get out of here carefully.

Our car was where we left it, hidden from sight behind the back of the building. Thankfully it hadn't badly gotten damaged by the explosion. Steve set me down next to the car and by now my head was cleared and I was able to stand up on my own. I had never been one for letting injuries slow me down no matter how bad they were.
I slid into the passenger seat as Steve went around to get into the driver's side. He started the engine, the noise being drowned out by the loud helicopter on the other side of the building, and soon the car was pulling away from the rubble and fire.

I let myself relax once we were a few miles from the site. Steve and I probably looked terrible, with dust and blood over our faces and our clothes badly torn. Did we even have a place to go that was safe?

"Where are we going?"
My voice was scratchy and dry and it almost hurt me to speak. Steve looked at me briefly before turning his eyes back to the road.
"A friend's." He didn't elaborate any further. "Get some rest, it'll be a while." I nodded wordlessly and placed my feet up on the dashboard, not expecting Steve to tell me not to anymore. My eyes slid closed and soon I was in a light but restful sleep.

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When I awoke again the sky was beginning to get lighter and bird calls were audible in the trees around us. I stretched my short legs out with a yawn and rubbed my eyes with the palms of my hands.

Steve was still driving and when I asked him if he wanted to switch so he could sleep some, he refused.
"We're almost there anyway. We're back in Washington."
"Who's this 'friend'?" I asked. "How well do you know him?"
"Enough to trust him."
That I didn't question. I knew how long it took for Steve to fully trust people and if he trusted this person, then I did too.

An hour later, we pulled up to a row of small houses on the outskirts of D.C. Steve drove around the back so our car wasn't visible from the road, and parked. I climbed out after him and tapped up the back steps of the porch. Steve knocked four times on the glass slider that was covered with a set of blinds from the inside.
It took only a moment for the blinds to be pulled up, and a man appeared at the slider. He had dark skin like Fury, and his black hair was closely cut to his head. He wore a dark purple shirt and a light sheen of sweat covered him like he had just gotten back from his morning run.

The man looked at us with an air of confusion and worry, then pulled the slider open.
"I'm sorry about this." Steve sounded sincere. "We need a place to lay low. Everyone we know is trying to kill us."
The man stood in the doorway for a few more seconds before moving out of it to let us inside.
"Not everyone." He told us. Steve and I entered the man's house and he followed us into the kitchen after making sure we weren't being watched or followed.

The man-who introduced himself to me as Sam Wilson- allowed us to use his shower and spare bedroom to clean ourselves up. I looked in the bathroom mirror and saw that I had still had dirt on my face that was as dark as my hair. I pulled my hair out of its braids and quickly rinsed it out in the sink after giving my face and arms a good scrub as well. Then I took a towel and moved out of the bathroom so Steve could use it.
I sat on the edge of the spare bed with the towel and slowly pressed my long hair dry. When it was wet, my hair fell a few inches past my waist. Natasha would alway tug on it and tease me about needing a haircut whenever we trained together. I smiled a little and let out a sigh.