Ghostwalker ▷ b. barnes [2]

xxvi. whatever it takes

SUNLIGHT.

That was the first thing Sam noticed.

Stumbling out of the building and into the dazzling light, she nearly fell over her own feet. Her entire body throbbed and screamed and she felt like she could faint, swaying unsteadily. But instead, she keeled over and heaved, emptying her stomach onto the street.

The elevator hadn't been an option.

But out of the base, there hadn't been the only way.

She couldn't remember if she'd killed the guards or just rendered them unconscious. But that didn't matter— they'd be after her soon anyway. The moment they realized the Winter Soldier had helped their prisoner escape, they'd be coming.

Sam shoved herself up and started down the street.

She received looks of confusion, disgust, and disturbance as she stumbling down the thinly crowded sidewalk. Maybe she shouldn't be surprised. Sam had no idea what she looked like, but she doubted it was good.

One woman came hurrying over.

"Miss, are you alright? Miss?"

"I-I'm fine," Sam stumbled past. She didn't dare stop, terrified that her pursuers would catch her trail at a moment's notice.

Did HYDRA have any quarrel with taking her out on an open street?

For some reason, Sam doubted it.

Gradually, the crowds got thicker. She managed to lose herself in the throng and finally moved a little slower, clutching her side tightly. Each step was painful, like she could feel the gunshot wound opening and closing. 

It was taking its time healing.

She was too weak for the process to go any faster.

Sam stumbled again, unable to catch herself this time. She started to fall, but strong hands caught her inches before hitting the pavement. 

"Whoa, whoa, girl. Are you okay?"

Alarm cut through her thoughts. Sam yanked away, stumbling back, and nearly fell over again. This time though, she managed to catch her own balance.

She gazed up into the brown eyes of a stranger.

"I-I'm fine." Her words were slurred. Sam felt like she could be sick again— or actually pass out this time. "Perfectly fine."

"Yeah, you don't look 'perfectly fine'."

"Well—" She saw stars. Before Sam could stop herself, she was falling again and the man leaped forward, hands wrapping around her shoulders, her chest colliding with his. She didn't have the energy to yank away this time.

The world turned grey, then black, then grey again.

"Girl, you need a hospital."

"No, no," Sam managed. Her tongue felt heavy. "No hospitals."