Hellish (Steve Rogers Fan Fiction)

F i v e

Natasha brought clothes to Sloane and then the Red Dahlia was able to get a proper shower, something she hadn't had for a while.

Hot steam from the water fogged the mirrors and the glass of the shower door.

Sloane always did her best to hide any pain, any signs of weakness, and she succeeded. None of the Avengers could've guessed that on top of the bullet wound in her thigh, she had a stab wound on her left hip, a bullet hole healing on her right shoulder, and bruises littering patches of her body.

She raised her aching arms, bringing them up to massage shampoo into her dark brunette curls.

Moving so that her head was under water once again, she let her head hang as the shampoo began to rinse off and run down the drain.

The hot water was nearly burning her skin, but it felt good in an odd way.

Her time in the shower took a little longer than Sloane thought she would, but it was okay.

Wrapping herself in a soft gray towel, she left the foggy bathroom and went to the bedroom.

There was now a hairbrush sitting on the neat, little stack of clothes Natasha had given her. Someone must've snuck in to give it to her.

Sloane tightened her grip on the towel around herself and quickly looked around the room, suddenly feeling uncomfortable in the large area.

There was a little pink sticky note on the hairbrush.

Consider it a gift. —N

It was Natasha who had snuck in here.

Stupid Black Widow. Sloane huffed, took the clothes, and went to the bathroom to get dressed.

The black pants were comfy and loose on her. Sloane didn't have hips like Natasha. The two shirts she had to choose from were a gray t-shirt and a black long sleeve.

Sloane chose the t-shirt and slipped it on before leaving the bathroom.

Just as she started to brush out her tangly, curly hair, someone knocked on the door.

"It's unlocked."

The door opened to reveal Steve with a plate that had three pieces of pizza on it.

"Sorry it took so...." He trailed off upon seeing Sloane.

Steve figured she must've been wearing makeup before because now, he could see the bruises along her cheek bone, her hairline, and the corner of her lips were dark blue. Her arms had a few bruises here and there and he could pick out hand print bruises on her upper arms.

"Yeah, I know I'm cute but you don't have to stare." Sloane smirked a little. It hurt to do so because of her cracked lip, but she did it anyways.

"When did you get your ass kicked?" He asked as he put the plate on the nightstand by the bed.

"A couple days ago. Then a few days before that." Sloane shrugged her shoulders lightly and continued to yank her brush through her hair. "People don't like when you take their things."

"Then stop doing it."

"I can't. I like green and shiny objects."

"So who gave you the handprints?" Steve tucked his hands into his pockets, his eyes studying her tattooed arm.

"Oh. Those guys." Sloane put the brush down and looked at the handprints on her arms. "Well, most of the people I end up fighting are bigger than me. This woman was probably bigger than you, completely muscle, and she picked me up like I was a stick and hurled me through a door. Ever happened to you?"