With one slash, Steve made the drastic decision he'd been torn between all through his talk. The ropes fell free from the mans feet. Steve hauled his captive up and half-dragged, mostly carried him back through the waterfall, ignoring his spluttering protests about being manhandled, most of which were thankfully drowned out by the water pouring into his face anyways.
There was a fire, smoke already rising not even a full click away. He certainly hadn't been the one to plant anything like that in the nearby area, which meant his target was on the move again. He did not consider it a coincidence this happened after he'd taken a hostage, which meant his location had been compromised.
Before this Detective had even found his balance, he was trying to force them into a run. Steve grabbed the back of his shirt and kept him on his feet, then unkindly shoved him forwards. "Walk, now! You make one move I don't like, and I'll shoot out your other leg."
"You've got to be kidding me," was the instant protest, even as he did as told and began staggering forward. He kept up a stream of muttered protests, constantly glancing over his shoulder and intentionally meeting his eyes.
Every time he did, Steve's heart skipped a beat. He was imagining this connection, he had to be! This man was the very embodiment of everything Steve knew not to trust. Loud-mouthed, incompliant, quite possibly the most aggravating man he'd ever met. Even now admitting he didn't have a full grasp of his situation, of this he was positive...and yet he still couldn't bring himself to leave him behind. He should, tactically it would be the best move. Shoot him now so that he couldn't reveal anything that he knew, which was a lot! A very dangerous amount of things...and Steve believed every one of them. He hadn't been lying, even having no proof to half the things this man said, he knew in every bone in his body they had all been true.
So when the man stumbled to the ground for a third time and seemed unable to get back up, Steve offered a hand. A hesitant, unsure half hoping he wouldn't take it appendage, that was grasped with a strength he wouldn't have guessed. The blonde hauled himself back to his feet and huffed out a thanks, then kept moving like nothing had happened. Steve stared at his hand for several long seconds before he kept going.
They made it to a rocky outcropping that had the best vantage point for miles. Steve indicated the man to finally sit down, and even took the time to prop his injured leg up before settling himself into a snipers position for their west side, leaving his back very insecure... he twisted around to glare at the man who was taking long, steady breaths and pealing back the wasteful attempt at a bandage. The damage wasn't that bad, another inch to the right and it would have missed him completely. Still, it had carved a nice chunk of flesh out, pure muscle really, which meant that it likely hurt to high hell but wasn't a high priority wound. The one on his arm was even less threatening, a scratch really. When Steve had tugged his shirt aside to see it, he swore a similar wound must have once happened in the exact same spot-
"You shot me! Twice! And I've done nothing but placate to your every whim since! I think I'm entitled to a little trust and your backup weapon!"
Steve forced himself to come back to the present and realize the Detective had been talking, again. He did that a lot.
"I grazed you. Once." Steve protested, and the look on his face, the light banter being returned was so familiar Danny sagged further down in his spot, in relief he told himself.
Steve's face finally creased with the concern he'd been expecting to see all the way at the beginning of this mess, not that he'd admit to it. He just didn't want to be stuck up here with a dead body, the smell would rise quickly.
"You shot at me, twice." The guy insisted, refusing to back down on this or to the ground. "Now, knife." He held his hand out expectantly.
Steve very visibly swallowed, shifting his weight around, but finally relinquished it, taking his gun with both hands and shifting his weight back properly to his position. His muscles were insanely tight across his neck, and he was still half turned in his direction.
"Do you really still think I'm going to stab you in the back?" The other couldn't help but demand, brandishing the knife down to his leg and back for emphasis. "What kind of person do you think I am, huh? You spared my life for crying out loud. Not that I really ever thought you could actually hurt me."
Steve didn't answer. He wanted to bristle in disgust at what he considered a slight. Wished he could turn around and deck the short guy across the face to prove he could inflict plenty of damage this civilian had no idea of, but imperceptibly to any other person, the tension began easing out of his shoulders. He watched a smile of relief appear and that mouth just kept going. "I've had your back for years, lots and lots of years Steve. Somewhere in that head of yours, you know that."
He peaked over his shoulder at him, and watched his lips press together tight in concern. For him? For himself? Both of them were injured. What he wouldn't give for an emergency medical bag, let alone some duct tape and glue, just to slow that bleeding on both of them.
"You really didn't shoot me in the leg?" His voice was mild now, like he was checking the weather.
"No!" His instant retort shamed him, the outrage that had burst forth making all previous threats seem laughable from his one simple protest.
"So someone is out here with us, after you." It sounded as if he'd chosen his words very carefully, but it didn't stop Steve from tensing in unease once again. Trust, he had to remind himself. This guy behind him, Danny, he trusted him. With every reason in the world not to, he did, and this man was on his side.
He considered his own options for several moments before finally admitting to everything he did know, which admittedly, was limited.
"Yeah, someone's been tracking me since I woke up in this jungle. He's had accomplices, I've been setting traps to cover my tail, but every time I circle back and someone's caught in them, they've been dead. You're the first one I've found alive. If-"
"No, let me stop you there!" The guy emphasized his point by jabbing the knife skyward and using his other hand to point directly at Steve. "I have nothing to do with whoever the hell's been 'hunting you.' God, you are the only man alive who could get away with saying that with a straight face! Second, and far more importantly, his name is Hollard! He was wanted back on the mainland for a string of human trafficking and relocated to Hawaii five years ago, we only just caught his trail when shit hit the fan and you vanished because you oh so stupidly decided to track him down out here by yourself! Now it seems he's made quite a few friends on this island, and every one of them are gunning after us!"
Us. Of all the many words the blonde had just used during his little rant, that one resonated with Steve the most. This guy, despite every reason not to, was still lumping himself in with Steve. It could very well be a trick of course, but really, where was the motive? What did this guy have to gain by continuing to stick around Steve?
He turned back to watching their position, now almost completely relaxed to have his back being watched by this Detective.