Hellish (Steve Rogers Fan Fiction)

S i x t e e n

Sloane's eyes fluttered open, taking note of the dim lighting in the room.

"What continent am I on?"

"I'm not in the mood for your games, Sloane." Steve replied. "You're in Manhattan."

Sloane turned her head to look at the blonde man sitting a few feet from her.

"So that's what we're gonna be like?" He asked quietly, thick arms crossed over his muscular chest. Dark blue eyes were set on Sloane. "You come to me only when you need something and you'll only tell me shit when you feel like it?"

"I'm not doing this right now, Rogers." She shook her head and began to push herself into a sitting position. Using her left arm, however, wasn't going to work. She couldn't move her shoulder and it hurt to try. She gasped and switched to using her right arm.

"Dr. Cho thinks you broke a bone."

"Dislocated my shoulder." When he didn't say anything, Sloane decided she should tell him at least a little bit about the past week. "I was working on a job just in Queens when the mark freaking jumped me. Pushed me off a fire escape."

Steve stood up suddenly, his hand combing through his hair as he shook his head. He was angry now. His muscles were tense and rigid as he walked away from Sloane.

"You.... You were in New York this entire week and you didn't even have the decency to tell me?"

"Technically I was only in New York for, like, three days."

Steve turned to face her and it was then she realized the intensity of the situation. She shouldn't be making jokes.

"I don't think whatever I thought I wanted.... want.... with you is going to work."

Hearing those words, Sloane felt something inside of her begin to stir in a bad way. She felt a little nauseous.

"Why?" She whispered, her hands gripping the edge of the bed.

"You left in the middle of the night without even telling me, Sloane. You only left a freaking note! That isn't the kind of relationship—,"

"I had to, Steve! I had no choice! Something came up and I had to leave!"

"And you couldn't tell me?" He challenged. "I told you that you could tell me anything. Anything, Sloane! You don't trust me! It's as simple as that."

She squeezed her eyes shut as the back of her throat became itchy and her nose got that funny feeling that told her she was about to cry.

Steve watched her for a few moments. A round, dark bruise was on her cheek, her lip was sliced open, and where her temple had been gashed open there was a butterfly bandage over it. The dark bruises splotched all over her collarbones, chest, and arms churned Steve's stomach. She looked like utter hell.

"I don't want to get you into trouble, Steve." She barely whispered. "It won't work, what we have or had. It just won't. I'm-I won't stop what I do. I can't. My mom's tried to get me to stop but she can't stop me and I can't stop myself! I don't want to get you into trouble with what I do."

"Why do you like to take other people's things?" Steve asked.

Sloane shrugged her right shoulder, swallowing the lump in her throat.

"Do you want to be with me, Sloane?"

"Yes. Yes, please." She begged softly, lifting her eyes up to meet his. "Don't go."

Hearing her broken voice nearly tore his heart to pieces. He could see the tears in her eyes and he felt bad for causing her to cry.

"I'm not asking you to change who you are. I just need you to alter a few things."