calling_logs | So when they say 'quiet' they really just mean 'as terribly dangerous as usual'

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So when they say 'quiet' they really just mean 'as terribly dangerous as usual'

Who: Steve and Dejah
What: Continuing from here, Steve and Dejah escape the beasties in a treehouse
When: Mid-afternoon
Where: City of Adventure,
Notes & Warnings: Mentions of blood and poisoning.

Now that the beasties are done with, Steve's going to climb his way up to the treehouse and collapse on the floor. Collapse because that was much harder than he'd expected it would be and while he knows he has some work to do, that he needs to check up on Dejah--

Dammit, he needs to get up and check on Dejah.

It hurts, and he's sore, but he pushes himself up and goes to take a look at her, check her wounds, see if any of them have turned an unsavory color. It's hard to tell, given her red skin and her blue blood, but so far, hopefully, so good.

"Sorry about the toss. I just... I needed to get you up there and I couldn't think of anything else to get you out of harms way. I hope it didn't hurt too much. How we doing?"

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He waves that off too.

"Nonsense," he says with a huff of a breath. "I did what I did because I wanted to. That means you don't owe me anything. Just... put your energy into watching those wounds, all right?"

He swiped at his forehead and ruffled his own hair; he really wished he could go back to the waterfall about now.

"Sorry. Not sure how long you were out, mostly because I'm not sure how long I was out."

"So possibly not more than a few hours. You've healed so quickly."

She struggles to sit up and this time, she manages. One hand gropes around her on the floor.

"...my sword."

His eye went to the door as he tried to remember if she'd had her sword when they'd been running. The details just hadn't seemed pertinent at the time.

"Knife's in the corner, but the sword..." he shakes his head, "I'm not sure on the sword. Had, uh, bigger priorities, not to be rude. I'm sure we can go back and grab it-"

He looks her up and down just the once before.

"Correction, I can go back to the waterfall and grab it."

"It's all right. We can retrieve it later. Besides, I could use a chance to rinse off."

She rests a hand on his arm, like she needs to know where he is. That he's real and not some figment of her imagination.

"Do we have provisions?"

He looks startled a the random touch, and, to some degree, at her need for it. Whatever else has happened over the last day or so, he hadn't done anything all that extraordinary.

Well, the fighting, sure, but that was just what he could do. That touch seemed to hold more that he isn't sure he's earned.

He glances back and looks at his pack, considering what he still had in there. Honestly, most of the damn thing is full of provisions, some of them obtained at the Outpost, but also a few from the City of Tomorrow. Apparently, tech even extended into camping food.

"I've got some things. We'll, uh, we can probably just eat some of the dried stuff for the moment, but I'll go and get us some more water after that so we can actually make some soup. I'm sure your insides could do with a little soup."

His reaction makes her pull her hand back, and she swallows, trying pull herself together. There's mud in her hair, and blood caked to her side, down her leg. Her skirts are torn to ribbons. She looks a fright.

Her hand brushes her hair back from her eyes, and her gaze makes its way back to his face.

"Soup sounds lovely. And more water, yes. I'm still thirsty. Probably from the blood loss."

She sounds embarrassed at the confession.

That embarrassment actually pulls a faint, gentle smile out of him. He knows a little about how that can be, after all.

"Bloodloss'll certainly do it. I'll go get us some water in just a moment."

He's not quite sure he should leave her alone quite yet.

"I need to get up and walk," she says, his scrutiny only amplifying her mortification a thousand fold.

She shifts, and begins the arduous process of making her way to her feet.

Her shifting sent him scrambling for a moment before he got his legs under him and he could properly support her.

"Moving is a good idea," he agreed, "but considering we're in a tree house, how about you hold onto me while we walk around a little, huh?"

"Yes, all right," she answers, her eyes still downcast. He's right, she knows he is. But she feels like she's imposed enough on him. The memories of the previous night's battle ring in her ears. She lets him help her stand, lifts her head and straightens her spine.

That lasts about ten seconds before the effort catches up with her, and she sags against his arm.

"What did I say to you? Last night? Before -- when you..." She shakes her head, trying to remember.

"Don't remember, honestly," and while his earnestness is genuinely legendary, this kind of lie... this kind of lie he's great at. It's the kind he's been telling Peggy for the last few years. It's the kind he told his mother more times than he could count. He'd told that lie to Bucky too, but to be fair? He'd never pulled it off with Bucky.

"I wasn't exactly doing as well as I could have last night either. The two of us made quite a pair, passed out on the floor."

He gives her a faint squeeze.

"I'm sure if it's really important, we'll remember."

She cuts a glance at him, startled at the gentle show of affection. She remembers, but it's hazy. She remembers letting go and how much it hurt. She remembers his hand on her head, soothing her tears.

"You are a gentleman, for trying to protect my dignity. I owe you for that as well."

"You don't owe me for anything," he says easily enough. "No other option on what to do about a beautiful woman crashing in with a snake monster after her."

Blink.

"I mean, you are beautiful, but I woulda done it even if you weren't-"

Beat.

"I mean, I wasn't really lookin' at you when you ran in with the monster because he kinda stole the show-"

Beat.

"I mean, not that you're not worth looking at, but I think I mighta just looped around so maybe I'll just... stop."

He breathes in deep and holds up a hand, waving it lightly.

"No debt. Just get better."

His awkwardness draws a gentle smile to her face. It's been so long since someone fumbled over their words when addressing her, much less a man as accomplished (and yes, attractive, don't deny it Dejah) as he.

They reach the end of the small room and she turns into him to make the return trip. She's getting stronger with every step.

"Don't think I've forgotten what state I found you in," she says, a hint of playfulness under her words. "Perhaps when we return to the water's edge to look for my sword, we can find your dignity down there as well?"

That gets a laugh out of him, one that he makes sure to turn out to the room so he doesn't bark in her ear.

"Oh, that's been lost a long time gone. You'd have to go looking somewhere in Brooklyn for that," he shakes his head, "and the alley might not even exist anymore."

She laughs as well, only wincing slightly. She grips his hand at the lance of pain, but it's much more manageable than previously.

"That sounds like a story I'd love to hear. Perhaps when we go camping next time?"

"It's kind of you to think there's a single story," he says with a soft shake of his head. Then he's looking around at their little treehouse.

"How are you feeling for sitting now?"

Because he really should get something into her other than dried goods.

She nods in silent agreement, letting him guide her to a place where she can rest again. She's actually starting to feel hungry.

"Really?" She sounds perplexed, actually. "It was my understanding that humans were exceptionally body modest. Do you make it a habit to be found naked in places about town?"

He just blinks at her because, um. What. What exactly was he supposed to do with that? Finally, like something had snapped into place--

"No," because that was important, "no, I- clothing is not optional. I just-"

He closes his eyes.

"I... think there's a misunderstanding here maybe."

"My apologies," she smirks up at him, a twinkle in her eye. "Perhaps there are other ways to leave one's dignity behind in an alleyway, more than once?"

"Oh, I could give you a list," and that comes with a wry little grin. "But most of them involve getting my face punched in."

Her brow furrows. "That sounds unpleasant. I assume this was before your..." She hesitates. She has distinct opinions about using untested protocols on people, but she knows he came from a different time and place than she did, and she will not judge him for it.

"Before your service."

"Got it in one," he says with a brief chuckle. "Doesn't mean I don't remember it clearly, though."

Then, after a thought, he tilts his head.

"It's that obvious I'm a soldier, then?"

"Please. Steve Rogers," she says, her chin dropping a bit. She was, understandably, a bit out of it the night before, but now she remembers where she knows the name from.

"You are more than a soldier."

He can see that recognition and there's the barest moment of... loss. Nothing permanent, not even something he really mourns, necessarily, but it's something he feels drop away. He's not just Steve who helped her out or Steve the warrior who fought off a snake and some wolves. Now he's Steve Rogers, Captain America.

But he's hopeful it won't change much.

"I guess you've got me there."

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