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I arrived at the tower at 22:45 and got into the elevator. The blood hadn't really got any better and I looked like something out of a horror movie. I was still wearing the black slut dress. My face was stinging really badly and my arm was still bleeding. The arm didn't hurt very much, but my face and stomach wounds were killing so badly.
I winced slightly and the elevator door opened. I walked in, holding my arm and tried to make it not bleed all over the floor, because it was a really deep cut.
"Maria?" I heard someone call. I looked up, saw Steve put down a drink and then quickly jog over to me. "What the hell happened?" he said, putting his hand on the cheek that wasn't scratched.
"Nothing. I just got into a fight with the target. It's fine really."
"No, you're really not fine." he said, stroking my cheek. "Come on, I'll help you get cleaned up."
We went towards my room and he put his hand on the scanner. My door opened and me and Rogers went inside. On my way to the bedroom, I noticed his notebook on the table and some of his stuff there.
"You been here for long?" I asked. He was waiting for me to come back. How cute.
"Since you left. I wanted to make sure that you got back okay." he said, filling a bowl up with water in the bathroom. It was really useful having a mini kitchen in my room.
He came over and we went into the bedroom. I sat down on the bed and winced. That stupid stomach wound "Where are you hurt?" he asked.
"Knife wound to my arm, stomach and obviously face. Just scratches though."
"Scratches. You can hardly call these scratches." he said. "Do you want to get into something loose, so I can stitch up your stomach wound?"
I looked up at him. "Yeah, sure. Give me a couple of minutes."
"Right." he said, going a faint shade of red again and left the room quickly. I went over to my wardrobe and grabbed a thin strapped tank top and some jeans. I tried to reach the back of the zip, but I couldn't quite get it, because my arm was hurting so much. Oh god.
"Uh...Steve?"
"Yeah?"
"Err...can you come in here for a minute please?"
"Sure." he said and opened the door. He came over to where I was standing and asked "What is it?"
"I...I can't get my zip undone on my dress. Can you help?" I asked.
He was slightly shocked for a moment before replying "Uh...S-sure. Yeah."
I turned around and felt his fingers graze the top of my back where the dress started. I heard the zip reach the bottom, his fingers touching the lower of my back and I said "Thanks."
I heard him shut the door once more, so I dropped my dress on the floor. I got the jeans and went down to put my legs through one of the holes, but didn't even get my foot in, because I screamed out in pain and fell on the floor.
The door opened straight away and Steve ran over. "You okay?" he asked, looking away slightly from the fact I was in my underwear.
"Sorry. I can't even put on clothes anymore." I said laughing, but then groaned because the vibrations from my lungs caused my wound to sting.
"Don't laugh or do anything more to hurt yourself. Um...do you...want me...to help you?" he said nervously.
"Yeah. Thank you Steve."
"It's fine." he said and got the trousers. I leant myself against the bed post. He lifted up my right leg first, causing me to smile inside. His hands were so soft, yet stronger than anything. He put my right one into the jean leg and then did the left one. He pulled the trousers up my legs until they reached my hips. He left me to button them up.
He got the shirt and put it over my head. He took care threading my arms through, because of the cut on one of them. He was so kind. He pulled the fabric over my bra and down so it reached my waist. The blood already started to seep through the top, so I pulled it up a bit so that it wasn't in the way.
He lifted me up bridal style again and delicately placed me down on the mattress, which was soon to be covered in blood.
"What first? Your head or your stomach?" he asked.
"My head. My face is beginning to itch from the blood stains."
He soaked a cloth in the bowl of water, squeezed it a bit and sat facing me. He put one hand on the cheek that was soft and pure and then raised the cloth up to dab my face with the other. The water was warm and I closed my eyes as he began to wipe away the blood. I winced at the pain.
"Sorry." he said quickly, pulling the cloth away.
"Don't worry. Keep going. This needs to be done."
"I don't want to hurt you."
"You'll have to Steve." I said, looking into his eyes.
He sighed angrily, shook his head and started wiping my face again. It hurt me, but I tried not to let it show. The cloth traced down my neck and I leaned my head back for him to get better access to all the blood stains. He traced over the top of my chest and down the side of my shoulders.
Once my face was clean, his finger traced over the wound. "Do you think it will heal?" he asked.
"I'll have a scar. Be a freak for a while." I said solemnly.
"You won't be a freak." he said. "And the scar doesn't matter. It doesn't change you." He got out the needle and thread and asked "Are you sure you want me to do this without anesthetic?"
"I've had worse." was my response and then he began threading up my face. He started at where my ear was and then worked his way up to my lips. When he finished, he put down the needle.
"Stomach?" he asked and I nodded. He moved the vest top out of the way of the cut and wet the cloth again in the water. He delicately brushed over the wound with the cloth, taking care not to hurt me, and I was rocking slightly from the movement. He put his hand on my waist to steady me, but he didn't realize what he did until after. He looked up at me nervously. "Sorry." he said and removed his hand from me. I grabbed it before he could pull it back any further and put it back against my waist. My hand remained on top of his as I smiled at him and he went back to cleaning my wound.
The grip on my waist tightened when I winced and I felt bad for making him do this. "You don't have to do this you know. I don't want to force you to."
"No. I want to. Someone's got to make you better and I wanted to be here for you." he replied and got the needle again. He threaded up my skin again, which fucking hurt, and then pulled my vest top back down.
I held out my arm for him to clean and he gripped the elbow, whilst cleansing the blood on my forearm. "Is he dead?" he asked. I could hear the anger bleeding through his tone.
"Yes. I shot him. Protocol." I replied.
"Good." he said and continued to wipe my forearm. I never though Steve could be like that. Be grateful that someone has died, but maybe it's just me. I like thinking of it in that way. My forearm didn't need a stitch, but he put a bandage round it. He lifted up my top once more and pulled my head against his shoulder, so he could wrap the bandage round the back of my body. I clung to him like a monkey and I didn't really want to let go of him. I felt him finish the bandage, but I still didn't release my hold on him.
"I'm so glad that you're not seriously injured." he said, putting his arms round me also.
"Thank you for doing this. It's been better doing it with someone else." I replied and he smiled at my comment.
He let me go and placed my body back down on the mattress. "Are you feeling better?"
"I'm feeling cleaner, lets just say that."
"Well, as long as your okay, I shall retire to my room. Goodnight Maria." he said and got up, taking the medical equipment with him.
"Night Steve." I replied and he smiled at me, before shutting the door.
My stomach, face and arm all felt a lot better after that med session with Rogers. I never knew he could be such a good stitcher. I must use him in the future for all of my injuries. Not just because of his medical skills. I pulled my covers closer to me and snuggled down against my mattress.
"Need any help?" I heard a voice call out from behind me. I turned around and saw Steve standing there, leaning against my bed post.
He came over and put on my jeans. Once they were at the top of my hips, he kissed across my waist and then up my stomach. He placed delicate kisses across where my wound was.
He kissed all the way up to my lips and madly stroked my hair as he devoured my lips.
I woke up again in the same frantically breathing state. I bolted up, but immediately regretted it, because of the stitch on my stomach.
I looked over at the clock, which read 08:12. He should be up.
"JARVIS, tell Steve...he's needed again." I said, wincing at the pain.
Please review! Thank you for reading chapter 20.