HUNTED ~ STEVE ROGERS [2]

Chapter Twenty-Four

I thought my world had crashed and burned.

In a way, it had. SHIELD, my home for two years, an organization I had chosen to trust and to pledge my life to had crumpled. I had followed my orders till the last moment, and because of that innocent people had been killed.

And now, my partner, my close friend, my anchor and hope was seemingly killed.

So, you see why I am more than slightly messed up.

My entire body shook in Sharon's arms. I had stopped crying out, because my voice was gone, and my heart was shattered. There was silence on the comms. No one spoke, no one uttered a single word because I knew they had heard my cries and had realized I cared for Steve much more than they thought.

Through the debris falling from the flaming helicarriers, I searched frantically for any sign that Steve could be alive.

Then, through the haze, I caught a glimpse of something, a shine in the smoky air. At first, I thought maybe I was hallucinating with the pain, but as my vision cleared I saw what it was;

A man, with a gleaming silver arm, water sliding down its sleek surface as he effortlessly dragged a sopping wet body onto the small dirty shore of the dam, all the way across on the far side, too far away for Sharon or any other human to see.

The body he dragged was wet and limp, a faint blood stain spread across his torso and thighs. If he was alive, I couldn't tell.

But I would do anything to find out.

"I think, I think I can see..." I trailed off, and with a jerk I pulled away from her, that one single strand of hope enough to get the adrenaline pumping in my veins, to sharpen my vision and my mind.

And if he were dead, I would hunt down every single last one of those HYDRA bastards, and I would kill every single one without one, utter thought of remorse.

My feet thudded over the loose dirt and over scorched pieces of metal, one hand pressed hard against my ribcage, blood dripping form between my slippery fingers. Still more blood dribbled from my arm and thigh. My skin was clammy and cold, and I knew if my flesh wounds didnt kill me soon, the blood loss would.

But despite the fiery pain all throughout my body, my mind and goal remained clear;

Find Steve.

I could hear shouting behind me, but even injured I was faster than Sharon and she would never catch up to me, not while my determination fuelled me.

I would realize later, it was not only determination that fuelled me, but love.

"Steve?" I tried to shout, but nothing but a hoarse whisper came out. My tingling hands pulled and pushed at the green bush surrounding the small shore, moving more and more frantically with every step I got closer. My breathing hastened an finally, with one last fell stroke I was free from the bush, and stepping onto the loose dirt of the small shore.

There he lay, his blonde hair tousled over his pale face, eyes moving underneath his eyelids, chest falling and rising ever so slightly with every breath.

I was at his side at once, kneeling in the wet sand, my bloody hands sprawled over his chest, relief washing over me as I felt his heartbeat. It was faint, but it was there, and I couldn't be happier to see him.

"Steve? Can you wake up, Steve?" I croaked, running one hand down the side of his face, brushing his hair away from his eyes. His head moved slightly, lolling to one side. His lips moved ever so slightly, and I leaned towards them.

"Steve?" I said, lower lips trembling.

"Keight," he breathed, his eyes fluttering, but closing soon after. I smiled, smiled so broadly and laughed.

"Yes, Steve thats me. I'm here, Steve I'm here," I said joyfully, gripping the tattered collar of his suit. Blood leaked from his torso, staining the white stripes across his waist. "Uh, ok, Steve. We need to, uh," I rattled on, keeping my hands on him because I couldn't bear to ever leave him alone again.

"I'm going to have to lift you, ok? And it might hurt, and I'm sorry about it."

I wrapped my arms around his broad waist, and in one movement I hauled him up over my shoulder. My left arm screamed in pain and fresh blood trickled form the wound, but I ignored it. Steve groaned, his head banging on my back as I staggered back through the path I had made through the bush, every muscle in my body on fire and my multiple gun wounds bleeding heavily with every step. He was much heavier than I expected, all that muscle weighing on my shoulders. I could carry him easily in my normal, healthy state but weakened so I was struggling. But I knew that if I didn't get him to a hospital, to safety, he might not make it.

And neither would I.

"Come on Keight you lazy sod keep walking," I muttered to myself, my hands slipping as I tried harder and harder to keep a grip on Steve. He moaned, and I could have sworn his hands grabbed onto me, but it must have been a figment of my imagination because a moment later his arms swung heavily in the air, occasionally banging into me.

My head began to swim, and I saw brightly coloured spots could the corners of my vision. Voices yelled in the distance, and blurry figures raced towards us, a blonde and a redhead. My legs gave way, and I collapsed on the ground, Steve falling with me. He landed on the ground first, and I followed, but my hands never let go of him. I felt a cold chill run up my spine, my body giving up, my eyes clouding over.

My head lay gently on his rising chest, my hands crossed over his waist, and as I fell backwards into a black oblivion, all I could think about was that if I was going to die, there was no other place I would rather be, than resting against Steve Rogers chest and watching my friends live on without me.