Avengers Preferences

One Shot: Mr. James

Requested By: @amandasenor

One Shot 6

It's a Saturday, I could have gone out to do something. But today it's cold and windy and I can't be bothered to leave my apartment.

I love this apartment, it's a symbol of my new life. I'm finally living on my own. First floor, two bedrooms, one bath. It's just enough for me.

What I didn't know, was that today I would not be spending this chilly Saturday alone.

I was in my bedroom, organizing my movie collection, when I heard something that I did not ever want to hear. The door opened.

Heavy footfall clattered through my apartment, and I could hear the ragged breathing of my intruder. My initial thought was to scream, but I covered my own mouth and took a deep breath.

Moving very slowly and as quietly as I could, I knelt down and moved towards my bed.

Thank you God, for putting it in my head to get a hand gun...

With the gun in hand, I listened for clues as to how and where the intruder moving. I can hear that he's dragging one leg, and rooting around the kitchen for something.

I intentionally avoided stepping on the floor boards that creak. I see the man going through the box of medicine I keep in the kitchen. He's injured, but I'm not taking any chances.

Stepping into the kitchen, standing directly behind him I rose my gun and spoke in a steady and clear voice.

"Put your hands in the air, and turn around slowly,"

"I don't want any trouble," the man speaks in a hoarse voice.

"There will definitely be trouble if you don't do as I say," I cock the gun so he knows just exactly how serious I am "Do as I say,"

He raises his hands and puts them on the back of his head, and turns to face me.

His hair is long and dark, and probably very dirty by the looks of him. There are streaks of blood on his face, as if he had some on his hands and he wiped his face.

"What is your name?" I ask.

"I think it's James,"

"You think?"

"I don't know a lot about myself,"

"What you have, a, amnesia?"

"Something like that,"

"Why did you come into my apartment?" I do not lower the gun.

"I got shot,"

"By who?"

"I don't know,"

Stale mate. I pity this man, James. He has definitely been shot and needs help. But, he could still hurt me.

"Please," whispered the man. Tears prick his eyes, and my resolve diminishes. "Please help me,"

I lower my gun, only a little. "If I help you, will the people who shot you come here?"

"I don't know.... Please will you help me?"

I place the gun on the counter top, and he lowers his arms.

"Go to the chair," I point him to the table. He does as I say. "Sit there, and don't move. I'll be right back,"

I go to the bathroom, and get the first aid kit, when I come back. I see that he has not moved. And the gun is still on the counter just the way I left it.

"You can't be much older than 20," he says as I pour iodine on a cotton ball. "How can you know so much about medicine?"

"I'm a nurse. This was supposed to be my day off," I admit.

"I'm sorry ma'am," he says, he winces as I dab the iodine on the wound.

"(Y/n)," I said "you can call me (y/n)"

"Miss (y/n)," repeated.

He didn't say anything else for the rest of the time spent patching his leg.

When I finished, he met my gaze. Breaking the silence I asked, "How did you get shot Mr. James?"

"I think I used to work for someone.... And they are trying to kill me,"

"Like the mafia?"

"Something like that..."

"Then you're in real trouble Mr. James. Do you have a plan?" I packed the medical supplies back into the case and locked it.

"I guess I'm just gonna keep running. Which reminds me, I probably should leave," he stands somewhat shakily.

"If you're ever in the neighborhood again... You can stop by," I grabbed his hand.

He turned to me and smiled, "I'll see you again Miss (y/n),"

And with that we walked out of the door he came through and disappeared into the city.