To The End [Steve Rogers]

15 - A Friendly Meetup

Jessica wakes in an unfamiliar place. She tries to listen to her surroundings before opening her eyes, but there isn't much to hear besides running water.

The room itself is clean and tidy. It's probably a guest room, or that of a clean freak, but nice all the same. The only out of the ordinary thing is the chair positioned at her bedside.

A door opens and Steve looks down at her. He's freshly showered and is now sporting a borrowed pair of jeans and tank top.

"You're up," he notices, leaning casually on the doorframe. "Sam said you'll probably have a concussion. Water and meds are on the nightstand."

He points beside her, and sure enough, the pills sit within reach. She takes them gratefully and chooses not to speak until she's had some water.

"Sam," she repeats, the name is not ringing any bells with her. "You have friends?"

He chuckles, coming to sit in the chair in front of her, "Don't act so surprised."

Jessica offers a small smile. The dull ache in her head will fade when the ibuprofen kicks in, but that will take a few minutes. Until then, she has far more pressing matters on her mind.

"Should I be worried about you?" She asks genuinely, her voice quiet. "What Zola said about you dying for nothing. It's not—"

"Anything you need to worry about," he finishes for her. "Maybe let me worry about you for a change?"

"Sure, like it's only the first time," she jokes. "Not that I mind."

He looks at her, then at the ground. She does the same thing when she's trying to hide her smile. She is about to call him out on it when they're interrupted by a new presence.

"Hey," the man says. "I'm Sam. It's nice to finally meet you."

"Jess," she greets him, noticing that he hasn't made the mistake of offering his hand. "Thank you for taking us in. I think we've reached our quota of people trying to kill us."

Steve shakes his head, "I highly doubt that."

It's Jessica's turn for the shower, so she takes Steve's extended hand for assistance in getting there. Sam excuses himself a moment later.

Her injuries aren't too bad. The biggest concern is the concussion, but being a SHIELD agent has assured her a lifetime of those. The minor scrapes that cover her shoulders and arms sting for only a moment before the water washes away the remaining debris.

Fresh clothes sit folded next to the sink. They are around her size. Not perfect, but they will work.

Steve is sitting on the edge of the bed when she opens the door. He lifts his head to greet her.

"You still take forever to get ready," he teases.

She rolls her eyes and comes to sit beside him, "I was in desperate need of a shower."

He doesn't say anything to that. Upon further speculation, Jessica notices the cell phone in his hand.

"How's Nat?" She asks.

"Huh?" He says, surprised.

She gestures to the object, "I know you, Steve. You think we need all the help we can get."

"Am I wrong to assume that?" He asks, sitting up straighter.

"Not at all," she admits. "Us being fugitives has been a lot on our own. Taking down HYDRA..."

"That's a whole other ballgame."

"Exactly."

A comfortable silence falls over them. They sit almost shoulder-to-shoulder, but she still feels so far away from him. She can tell his mind is reeling. Taking his hand into her own, she finally gains his true attention.