Coming Down ➢ Steve Rogers

eleven

Chapter Eleven;

Delaney didn't get much sleep. She found it difficult to doze off while seated and in the end, she ended up only falling into fitful, sporadic periods of sleep. By the time the morning dawned, Delaney was exhausted.

Natasha regained consciousness soon after. She asked where they were – and Delaney realised she didn't know. She didn't know where Steve was driving them too, or if he even had a destination in mind.

"A friend's," was all he said, and they accepted it without question. If Steve trusted whoever they were about to visit, that was good enough for Delaney.

By the time they pulled up in front of Steve's friend's, it was midmorning. They trampled toward the door, and Steve knocked. Shortly after it was opened, revealing Steve's friend.

"Hey, man," the man said, sounding slightly unsure. His eyes were on Steve.

"I'm sorry about this," Steve said, apologetic. "We need a place to lay low."

"Everyone we know is trying to kill us," Natasha added.

The man paused. "Not everyone," he conceded, and opened the door wide for them.

Trooping inside the first private building since they'd been on the run was a big relief. Delaney sighed as they entered and the door closed behind them. Suddenly, despite the situation at hand, she felt safer.

"Sam, this is Natasha, and that's Delaney," Steve said, gesturing to each of them in turn, and Sam shook their hands. "Lane, Natasha, this is Sam Wilson."

"Call me Lane," Delaney said, as Sam shook her hand.

He grinned. "You got it, Lane."

"Do you mind if we use your shower, to clean up?" Natasha asked.

"Go ahead. You need it."

A shower. The mere idea of it, of being clean, was bliss.

Sam showed them to the bathroom, attached to the bedroom. Delaney gestured to the room. "You first, Nat." She probably needed it most out of all of them.

Natasha inclined her head to show her appreciation and wandered inside. Delaney leaned against the wall of the bedroom and sank down to the floor. A wave of exhaustion hit her; she'd been running purely on adrenaline for almost a day now – and she'd barely slept in the car. She wondered if Sam had coffee. If he did she was going to drink a lot of it.

"You can lie down on the bed if you're that tired, you know," Steve said. He lowered himself to the floor to sit beside her.

Delaney snorted. "I don't want to dirty up Sam's perfectly clean linen."

Steve chuckled at this. "These are special circumstances, I'm sure he won't mind."

"But I'm still sure he'd prefer not having to wash otherwise spotless bed sheets. Nah, I'll wait until I'm changed." Delaney rummaged through her bag, grabbing several new clothes to wear.

As she did so, her book was pushed out of her bag. Steve picked it up and flicked through the pages. "What's this?"

"Oh, I meant to ask you." Delaney pushed her bag aside momentarily: this was far more important. "Harry Potter. Have you watched it, or read it?"

"I've heard it referenced... I haven't actually investigated." Steve sounded almost nervous admitting it.

Delaney gasped dramatically, covering her mouth with both her hands. "That, Captain, needs to be rectified immediately," she said, business-like. She winked. "It's only the greatest series ever. One of them, at least." She paused. "Okay, maybe not rectified immediately," she conceded. "But when we clear your name. And my own. I'll lend you all the books. And then we can watch the movies. With popcorn and chocolate."

All her favourite things – Harry Potter, popcorn, and chocolate. And she could share it with Steve. Delaney grinned at the images her mind conjured of the situation.

Steve smiled. "That sounds nice. I'd like that." He opened the book to read it; Delaney, however, gave a scandalised cry and grabbed it from his hands.

"That's not the first book!" she exclaimed. "You'll spoil everything for yourself!"

Steve raised his hands. Before he could say anything else the bathroom door opened and Natasha stepped out, dressed in new clothes and her hair wet.

"You're up, Lane," Natasha said.

"Thanks, Nat." Delaney grinned at both her friends as she picked her bag up and ambled inside the bathroom, closing the door behind her. It was a relief to peel off her dirty, sweat-drenched clothes – and even better to stand in the shower, hot water cascading down her body.

Delaney closed and tilted her head up to the ceiling. The shower was like warm summer rain. She stood there for a time that was longer than she cared to admit. She could stay there for the rest of her days, and be quite content.

But that couldn't happen. Delaney massaged the shampoo through her greasy hair – not for the first time, she cursed how thick it was. Once all the shampoo was rinsed from her hair and she washed down with soap she turned the shower off and changed into the spare clothes she had in her backpack. The clean cargo pants, shirt, and jumper were very much welcome.

Delaney stepped outside and found Steve and Natasha, looking to be in the middle of a rather serious discussion. Not wanting to interrupt, Delaney instead wandered into the kitchen.

"You don't happen to have anything for breakfast, Sam?" she called as she entered.

"I was just making it – I thought you'd all be hungry." He laughed. "Help yourself."

"You weren't wrong," Delaney commented dryly, just as her stomach growled loudly. She met Sam's eyes and they both burst into laughter. Delaney rolled her eyes and helped herself to toast, bacon, and eggs, and poured herself a large glass of water. She hadn't realised until that moment just how hungry she was – she hadn't eaten anything except breakfast the previous day.

She perched herself on a stool by the kitchen bench as Sam continued to make breakfast for Steve and Natasha. She dug into her food and moaned. "This is delicious," she whispered, and ate with gusto.

"You're welcome," Sam said, and for a while things were quiet between them as Delaney shovelled mouthfuls of food into her mouth, satisfying her empty stomach.

When she finished, her mood was brighter. Amazing what a hot shower and good meal could do to bolster one's spirits, she thought, finishing the last of her water. She sighed, content. If she wasn't currently being pursued, at that moment she could easily have been at peace.

She raked a hand through her wet hair. This became so much more dangerous than we ever imagined it to be.

"Thank you, Sam," she said. Delaney glanced up and saw Sam furrow his brows at her sudden words. "Thanks for everything you've done. For taking us in. I know you know Steve, but Nat and I are total strangers, and we're on the run. And the people after us want us dead... It's dangerous to shelter us." She smiled. "So, thank you."

She tried to put every ounce of emotion and gratefulness in her body into those two words.

"It's no problem," Sam said. "You were a pretty sad sight in the doorway."

Delaney thought back to her filthy clothes and sweaty skin and chuckled. "Dirty, bloody, and bruised. I can imagine. We must've been a sight for sore eyes."

"You were."

"Gee, thanks."

They both laughed.

"So, how did you and Steve meet, by the way?" Delaney asked, leaning forward and propping her chin up in her hands. "I'm curious."

Sam recounted his first meeting with Steve, and soon Delaney was laughing, and they were easily swapping stories of their first impressions of Steve and Natasha. By the time Steve and Natasha arrived, Delaney knew that she would be able to call Sam Wilson a friend.