Chapter Text
From the minute his eyes opened, Steve knew that today wasn’t going to be a good day.
There was this unsettling feeling deep in his bones that he couldn’t shake, even after his morning run with Sam.
Europe hadn’t exactly been kind to the four of them. It had been three months since Natasha and he had broken into the Raft, and Bucky had gone back under cryo. Now, the four of them were stuck jumping from city to city, trying to stay out of sight.
Leaning against the wall of the motel, Steve let out his third groan in the last five minutes, letting his head hang low. There was still an excess of energy thrumming through his body, but the last thing he wanted was to face Natasha for leaving their room too often. It seemed as if Steve was the only one in the motel that was affected by an excess of energy, as Sam was seated on the shitty couch, a book in his hand.
Sam. One of the greatest people he had the honor meeting in the present. Often he worried that he was pulling Sam along to what would be his death. He had already taken his freedom and his home away, his way of life. Any sane person would do whatever they could to let him go, for his own sake. Yet, he could never bring himself to push him away.
As if God had seen all of the energy trapped in his body, he just had to make his day even worse. There was a sudden murmur coming from a while away. Steve’s head snapped up, squinting at the door. Sam looked up from his book, staring up at him.
“You hear something?” He whispered, turning to stare at the door. It sounded like just one pair of footsteps, but in combat boots, heading towards them. “Someone’s close. Text Wanda and Nat, tell them not to come back-” He started, before the windows suddenly shattered.
He heard a curse come from Sam’s direction, before the sound of a metallic object hit the carpet with a thud. A hissing sound came out, and smoke began quickly filling the room right. Steve dived down to the ground, ripping the wardrobe doors wide open and pulling out his shield.
The click of a safety went off, and he knew that Sam was armed. “Our only way out is through that door, Steve,” Sam said to him, clutching the pistol tight in his hand. “Then that’s what we do,” he gritted out, before springing to his feet. t. The door was blown open, and Steve moved to shield Sam and himself.
That was until a projectile was shot at his thigh. A surge of electricity shot up through his body like never before, bringing him down to the ground. God, when he said he wanted to use up his energy, this was not what he meant.
A small groan escaped Steve’s lips as he blinked, trying to shield his eyes from the yellowish lights in the room. Placed in a kneeling position, his arms wouldn’t budge from behind his back.
“Well. Look who decided to join us,” a voice came from behind him, speaking in a far too eager tone. “Where is…” he slurred, looking up from the floor to make eye contact with Sam. Sam! His eyes widened as he took in the state of the older man.
There was a gnarly bruise already beginning to bloom at the temple of his head, and there was blood running from his nose. “What did you do-!” He started, pulling against the restraints that just wouldn’t budge. “Quit squirming, Captain. Or this meeting will not end well.”
The man’s words went through one ear and out of the other, as Steve continued pulling against the binds on his wrists. Sam, on the other hand, seemed completely out of it. His eyes would sometimes open for a moment, and his head was hung low, facing the floor.
“Stop it, Rogers-” the man said again, but Steve was relentless, shuffling against the carpet towards Sam to get him out, and do something, anything-
A shot rang out through the room.
One second, Sam was sluggishly kneeling on the floor, then next, he was on the floor, a new hole in his shoulder, and a scream ripped from his throat.
It felt like the world had stopped. Steve heard a scream, and it took him a second to realise that the scream was coming from him. “I told you to stop,” the man behind him said,with a nonchalant tone and a smoking gun in his hand.
There was a pool of blood slowly growing under his body.
Sam’s eyes were closed, and there was a pool of blood slowly growing under his body.
Small whimpers were escaping from his throat, Sam’s eyes were closed, and there was a pool of blood quickly growing under his body.
Another shot rang out in the room, ringing through his ears. Forcibly ripping his eyes away from him, Steve looked behind him, staring down at the now dead man behind him.
His eyes drifted up to the ajar door, where Natasha and Wanda both stood, a gun in the former’s hand, and a bag of groceries in the latter's.
“Sam!” She shouted, quickly crossing the room to his limp body. Natasha moved to the man’s body, searching his clothes for something, probably a key of some sort. “Steve, what the hell happened-?” “That- that shouldn’t have happened.” His voice sounded hollow. “It was just one man, I should’ve-” Sam let out a groan, and his words immediately died in his throat.
He was right.
It wasn’t a good day.