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He winced at the discomfort before otherwise keeping a cool exterior. 'You never lost your touch, I see,' he mused quietly under his breath as you pressed a square of folded gauze to the gash on his side. Muscles twitched and rippled beneath your hands as you wiped at partly coagulated blood with a damp cloth, followed by alcohol wipes. You put it in the laundry basket and turned your attention to cleaning him up. 'Sorry -' you apologised quietly as you finally managed to remove and discard the top half of his suit. The sleeves were just slightly too tight and required a little more force to pull them down his arms. You tried to be gentle, but it was no easy feat with how much he'd bulked out into the suit. 'Let me help,' you insisted and he conceded with a noise of discomfort as you started working on getting the top of his suit removed. When you returned to the bathroom, Steve had managed to take one arm out of his suit, but he didn't get much further than that before you stepped in. 'Wait here.' With a heavy sigh, you went to the kitchen and found the first aid box. He sat forward in the chair and you held off on ranting anymore in favour of helping him get out of his suit to treat his injuries. Or send a letter, at least.' Steve grumbled and shook his head. I've done nothing but wait for you to call. I gave up everything I knew to help you and then you just disappeared. 'Y/N - things haven't been easy recently -' He was cut off by a sharp groan as he dropped into the chair you'd brought through to the bathroom with you. What happened?' There was a burning resentment in your chest. 'I haven't seen you in almost three years. You made sure to lock the door behind him and guided him through to the bathroom. 'I didn't know where else to go,' he replied through gritted teeth before just about making his way through the threshold. 'Steve.' you sighed and hastily set the bat down to give him a hand inside. The sculpted contours of his face were littered with bruises and cuts. In the dim light, you could just about make out the glisten of blood on his fingers and the dark crimson patches on his suit. Steve was leant against the door frame with one arm, his other arm was crossed over his torso, pressing against his ribs. The hut was a little on the old side, but the door and window locks were as sturdy as you could get.Дrawing in a deep breath, you opened the door and your heart stopped. The keys jingled slightly when you turned them over in the barrel.

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You kept the bat behind you as your free hand reached out for the keys that sat in the lock. Normally it didn't bother you, but as you made your way closer to the front door and picked up the baseball bat you hid in the umbrella stand, it became increasingly difficult to breathe. Wary, you kicked the loose sheets off your legs, the warm night air was almost suffocating. You'd specifically chosen this place to hide because it was under the radar and out of reach.

Your blood ran cold when you heard the knock on the front door. рќђ–рќђљрќђ«рќђ§рќђўрќђ§рќђ (рќђ¬): mild language, brief mentions of canon-typical drama, friends-to-strangers-to-lovers type of vibes I guess?, descriptions of blood, injuries and past trauma, implied sex/sexual references, partial nudity, Nomad!Steve You'd sworn to never help Steve again, but there was something different this time around. Until a familiar face comes crashing back into your life, asking for your help again. Living life on the run isn't as fun as the movies make it out to be. рќђѓрќђћрќђ¬рќђњрќђ«рќђўрќђ©рќђрќђўрќђЁрќђ§: It's been a long road to recovery since the fall-out of the Sokovia Accords.