An introverted waitress stumbles into Captain America during Loki's attack on New York. After taking a bullet for him, he lets her go, wondering. She's on the run, but he can't know that. When she meets the Avengers again, escape is all but impossib...
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AMERICA'S POV
I'm pretty positive the gunshot wound in my shoulder is infected, and the hunger in my stomach has dulled to an empty ache. I barely notice when another alarm goes off in the facility, nor do I care. I just hope whoever is causing trouble stabs Strucker right through the heart. And I hope it hurts at least as bad as this does.
Yells fill the hallways. I push myself into a sitting up position, but don't bother to do more. At this point, dying would give me some rest. The sound of bullets pierces the air. I flinch. The last thing I need is another injury.
"Hey! Is anyone in here?" I perk up a bit, because I don't know who it is, but I recognize the voice.
"Here!" I shout as loud as I can, which isn't saying much. My voice comes out raspy and dry. Footsteps echo down the hallway, and within seconds, an unfamiliar red-haired woman rushes in front of my cell. My eyes widen as I scramble back a bit.
"America! Hold your ears." I do as she says and she shoots the lock, effectively blasting it apart. "Come on, we need to go."
"I- who are you?" I whisper. Her expression falters for a second before recovering.
"I work for SHIELD. My name is Natasha. You were the one who sent the coordinates, right?" She asks. I nod. "Right, let's get moving."
I try to push myself up, then hiss in pain. Everything hurts, like all the fibers of my body are on fire. Natasha pulls me up and slings my arm over her shoulder, supporting most of my weight.
"I suppose it's too much to hope that you can run, right?"
"Yeah, I think those chances are pretty slim."
"Great," she says grimly, then speaks into some sort of comm. "Hey, I've got her. Get back to the ship so we can leave. Clint, land close to us, she isn't going to be able to walk for long." I grit my teeth as we start to move. "It's okay. You're going to be okay. It's not that far, and we're not going to meet anyone on the way. The boys were causing a diversion."
"Okay," I mutter. I don't know who she or any of these others are, but I'm escaping. Right now, that's all that matters. Survival.
"Here, it's right there. You only have to go a bit further." She points to a sleek black jet. Two blond men start for us. My eyes widen in fear, and I think Natasha notices, because she adds a quiet "It's okay."
I try to believe her.
It doesn't work.
Even though she rescued me, I don't trust her.
Nothing about any of this is okay.
STEVE'S POV
I'm pacing the quinjet impatiently when I hear Thor yell for me. "There they are!" He says, pointing to the approaching figures. It looks like Nat is completely supporting America, so I run down to help. I keep my expression even when I see her, but the change the last six months has brought is shocking.
