I Can Take You Home (A Romanogers Fanfic) COMPLETED

Steve

The doorbell rang at night, and Steve grumbled to himself. Why couldn't his friends just call him? They should've known he had the phone figured out by now. Tony's mocking voice rang in his head. Old man.

  Steve groped around until he found what he was looking for. He switched on his phone and went to the group chat Tony created.

  Who is ringing my doorbell now? he typed. Don't you know it's like two in the morning?

  No one's ringing your doorbell, old man, Tony's responded almost immediately. The guy almost always never slept. Is that a ghost? Probably Moses?

  Very funny, Tony. Steve set his phone back down at the bedside table and switched on the lamp, illuminating the room. His phone vibrated a few more times, probably snarky messages from Tony.

  The doorbell rang several times again, as though the person ringing it was frantic and urgent.

  Who could that be? The floorboards creaked as Steve descended the stairs. He switched on all the lights and opened the door a little, peeking through.

  It was raining heavily outside, and a hand shot through the slit between the door and the wall. Steve jerked back and slammed the door shut, breathless. His heart beat louder than the pit-pattering of the rain raging outside.

  Steve took a deep breath and rolled his shoulders. He readied himself for a fight, then opened the door wide, inviting a splash of rain into his house.

  A woman stood there, drenched and disheveled. A hole in her cheek was badly stitched together and she was covered in bruises. Her chest heaved as she breathed heavily. There was something familiar about her, but Steve couldn't piece together the puzzle in his head, as though he was missing a few pieces.

  "Who are you?" Steve asked.

  "You need to get out if here." The redhead's voice was raspy and tired, with a Russian accent. Steve realized she was in pain.

  "What?"

  "Run, Steven, run. Don't let them catch you."

  "Who, what? What are you talking about?" Who would want to hunt down Steve so badly? He hadn't done anything wrong. Had he? "How do you know my name?"

  The woman staggered, and Steve caught her in his arms as she fell. Her ankle was torn, and it left a trail of blood behind her. Wherever she came from, she was so strong to have dragged herself here with that injured body of hers. "Who's them?"

  "Where is Clint Barton?" murmured the girl. "You're at his house. Where is he?"

  "How...How do you know him?" Clint had offered Steve his house when he had moved in to live with his wife and kids. This house was nearer to the Avengers headquarters anyway.

  "He...He saved me." The girl gripped his arms so tightly her knuckles paled. Her green eyes were bright with pain and fear. "You need to run, Steven. Please. They're going to kill you...and I can't let that happen." She gulped and let out a gasp. "They're...They're going...to...to..." Her eyes rolled back and her eyelashes fluttered close.

  Steve awkwardly held her up and kicked the door close. He then carried her up the stairs and into his room, laying her onto his bed.

  In the dim light of his room, Steve examined the hole in her cheek and the gashes and bruises that marred her hauntingly beautiful face. He lifted her bleeding ankle and she twitched slightly, and he quickly set it down. His fingers were stained red.

  Steve didn't know what to do. He may be a soldier back in World War 2 but that didn't mean he knew how to heal every type of injury. Sure, he had seen healers stitching and nursing wounds, but he never really paid much attention. He ran his fingers lightly over her forehead. She was Russian, that was all Steve knew about this mysterious stranger.

  He took out his phone and dialed Tony's number. While he was waiting for Tony to pick up the phone, he went to the wardrobe at the corner of the room beside his writing desk and pulled open the drawers. He took out a towel and a few clothes he had, though he doubted it would fit the woman at all; she was half his size, and small.

  Tony's voice reached his ear in a flow of static. "What's up, Capsicle?"

  "You need to come to my house, right now. Bring Clint too." Steve glanced over his shoulder at the sleeping woman on his bed. She looked like she was barely breathing. "There's someone I thought you'd like to know."

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"So, what you're saying is you're sent to kill her."

  "Oh, so she's the agent Fury told me about. She looked different though. More tired."

  "Yes. But I made a different call. Fury found potential in her, and ever since then, she earned our trust. She's a double agent."

  "But it's been years. How would we know she's still the same person she is back then?"

  "Hey look, Redhead's waking up."

  Steve pivoted around to see the agent blinking her eyes open. He had wrapped her up in towels and bandaged her ankle.

  "Gde ya?" she said in a hoarse voice. Her bleary eyes met Steve's and they were an alluring shade of pale green. They flew open when she saw Clint. "Clint," she breathed. "Ty v poryadke." Though she was speaking in a foreign language, probably Russian, the relief in her voice told Steve everything he needed to know.

  "Do you speak English by any chance?" Tony asked. He ran his fingers over his goatee.

  "Yes, she does," Steve answered.

  "I told you to run." The Russian woman pushed herself up into a sitting position with her elbows. She seemed to notice the towel wrapped around her and the blankets piling on top of her, for she gave them a confused look. She looked angry when she rested her gaze on Steve. "They are going to use you, Steven."

  "I...I don't know what you're talking about." Steve felt chills run down his spine.

  The woman tried to get out of bed, but she winced when she set her feet onto the floor.

  "Tasha, be careful." Clint ran toward her and held her by the shoulders. He ducked his head to look at her. Steve didn't know how he could look at those green eyes without feeling the burn of intensity in them. His eyes studied her pale face. "What's wrong?"

  The woman said nothing, only looked at Steve. Her gaze landed on Tony, then back to Steve. Finally, they settled back on Clint's face. "Ya ubil svoyu sestru."

  Clint rubbed her shoulders and kissed her forehead. "I'm so sorry, Nat."

  The woman, Nat, flinched away from his touch and wrapped her arms around herself. "They're coming. I told you to run, Rogers." Her eyes sliced into Steve's soul. "I told you."

  Beside Tony, Steve shivered.

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I sincerely apologise for any mistakes I've made when making Natasha speak Russian. I google translated English into Russian and just copied the phrase or word into this story.

                                                ~the author