[Kate risks one brief, dangerous second to hug him tightly, letting out a breath before pulling back. She's mostly just bruised, which is incredibly lucky, and maybe if she were a bit more beaten up she'd be quicker to agree, but as it is she shakes her head stubbornly.]
I can't. They're killing people, I can't just leave.
[Spoken like a true Avenger, if only Kate could remember her time with them.]
Kate, they'll kill you if you keep going like this!
[He can't have that happen. She hugs him, and he just wants it to last forever. With him, she can be safe. With him, she won't have to do things like this and put herself in harm's way.]
Please, Kate, you...you can't win this fight. We have to get you out of here.
And what will happen if you get killed, huh? How are you going to help people by dying?
[He grits his teeth - honestly, this isn't the time to be stubborn! He squeezes her hand back, feeling his hands shake. If she's lost, if she dies, then...]
[By the Mother Tree, he wouldn't know what to do.]
Please, Kate...we can help them, just not like this. [His tone is insistent as he looks around, trying to pull her away from her position.] You can't stay.
[She takes a hesitant step forward, partly because she can feel his hand trembling, but partly because deep down, she knows he's right. She can't do this forever, and it's better to find their allies and regroup, strategize, but something twists in her at the thought of just leaving. Kate takes in a deep breath, expression wavering.]
I don't know, I've just been by myself, really, it's-
[He doesn't get to finish his sentence.]
[He's so distracted by her, by the thought of getting her away from danger, that he doesn't register the movement nearby - a man, dressed in the typical Company Enforcer outfit, steps out from behind a nearby building, and moves in to attack the very woman he's trying to protect.]
[It's stupid of them both. Kate's distracted, too, and by the time Steinbeck realizes the Enforcer is coming towards them, he's too close for Kate's bow to be of any use. Kate reacts on pure instinct, stepping back and trying to pull Steinbeck with her, but she's too slow. Luckily for them both, the man seems to have lost his other weapons, and he's armed only with a baton. Unluckily for them, he brings it up in a short, brutal arc, and Kate isn't quick enough to react before it smashes into her temple. She goes down, out like a light, and crumples to the ground.]
[She does down, and it's like some string inside him snaps, and in an instant, he's turned his gaze on the attacker. He doesn't feel anything. He's already brought out his knife from the confines of his robes, and without delay, he moves in like a predator to stab it right into the man's chest. He does it again. And again. And again, until he's sure that the man's nice and dead.]
[Good.]
[He lets the corpse crumple to the ground as he moves to check Kate - oh good, she's still breathing - and pocketing his knife, he moves to scoop her up in his arms. There's a safe house nearby. He can take her there. There's blood splatter all over his robes and on his face, but he doesn't care. He can take care of it later.]
[When she'll wake up, she'll find herself in a slightly dingy room on a bed - there's the sound of running water in the background, probably from a bathroom nearby. In a few seconds, though, Steinbeck pops his head in the doorway, a relived look on his face when he sees that Kate is awake.]
Hey. Are you doing alright? You got a nasty hit back there.
[Kate comes to slowly, her head pounding. For a moment, she can't bring herself to open her eyes, much less move, but finally she forces herself to roll over, curling up into a miserable little ball. She's had concussions before, and they always, always suck. Her thoughts are so fuzzy that at first, she doesn't even register where she is or what happened, and then she remembers, and she's near ready to panic over the fact that Steinbeck might have been hurt when she hears his voice.]
Ow.
[It's a quiet, half-audible response, and when she tries to prop herself up on her elbow, her head spins. Worse than she thought. She sinks back down to the mattress.]
[He enters the room - he's shirtless, having removed his robes for washing, but he's still got a pair of pants on. He's sure Kate won't mind. Steinbeck makes his way to the bed, sitting down on the side to reach over and grasp her shoulder in reassurance.]
But I'm glad I got you out of there. It could've been worse.
[He tries to keep his composure, but somehow, hearing her call him her hero breaks it - he squeezes her shoulder, his voice already a little choked up.]
[The tone in his voice gets her to try to sit up again, much more slowly this time, careful enough to keep her head from spinning. She reaches out to cup his cheek, her thumb smoothing over his skin.]
Hey, it's going to take more than a little blunt force trauma to take me out. I'm okay, John.
[This is stupid. He shouldn't be so worried. Kate is fine, she's here, she's alive, there's no reason to get all upset over something that never happened. And yet, here he is, something dull and heavy in his chest. She touches his cheek, and he unconsciously leans into it, reaching up with his hand to grasp her hand.]
What if he had hit harder? I...I didn't react quickly. He had you down before I could even move. [He feels his eyes almost burning, like he wants to cry.] I just...I don't know. I can't stop thinking about it.
[She leans forward, resting her forehead against his gently and closing her eyes. Now that the adrenaline is gone, she's exhausted, and she has to fight to urge to simply curl up against him.]
You'd better not beat yourself up over this. I didn't move fast enough, either.
[A part of him wants to shake her, tell her that she shouldn't be out and about, she shouldn't pick fights she can't win. Another part wants to just hold her in his arms and stay like that forever, and forget the chaos of the world around them. And yet another part shudders at how close she is. He really could just lean forward a little...]
[He gulps.]
I'm not trying to. [But he is. He killed a man for her, and if given the chance to repeat it again, he'd do the same thing. Her safety is far more important than anything in this world.]
Kate, I...
[He moves his hand to clutch her shoulders. He feels like he's in a daze - there are so many things he wants to say, but he's scared to say them. She's so close, and he just wants to finally blurt out the truth, but...what if she doesn't feel the same way? But what id she does? He has to let her know just how important she is. He has to let her know.]
[Finally, he speaks up, his tone restrained.]
Kate...you know I'd do anything to keep you safe, right?
[She lets her hand drop in favor of looping her arms around his waist, pulling back just enough to meet his eyes.]
I want to keep you safe, too, but I'm choosing to do this. I would be a coward if I stayed home when I knew I could help. You can't make me your responsibility.
[All he's thinking about is how she's here, arms around him, and by the Mother Tree, she looks too beautiful for words. All his hesitations feel like they're burning away the more he looks into her eyes, like they're just ash in the wind.]
I know. Kate, I know, just...I want to make you my responsibility.
[A pause. He feels like his heart is beating in his ears.]
I want you.
[And with that, he finally gives in, leaning to close the distance with a kiss.]
[It isn't as though Kate hasn't guessed at his feelings, it's just that things keep getting in the way. She isn't usually one to hesitate, but most of the time it's like they barely have time to think with everything going on. As soon as he presses his lips against hers, though, she kisses him back as easily as breathing, tension she didn't realize she was holding onto easing from her shoulders, even as her heart skips a beat. It's a pleasant feeling, exhilarating, and she presses close instinctively, relaxing against him.]
[He's been too obvious for too long, but he's always found something to hold it back. Now, he doesn't have to. She returns his kiss and doesn't pull away, and he feels elation running through his veins. He's hers. She's his. They're together, finally, in a way that Steinbeck has been craving for far too long.]
[He deepens the kiss, too excited to stop, and pulls her in closer - he might be shirtless, but he doesn't care. He'll bare it for her, scars and all.]
[Kate lets out a soft, pleased sound, more than willing to follow his lead. She trails a hand down his back, light and experimental, the pattern of scars almost lace-like under her fingers. He deepens the kiss and she tries to slow them down just a little, her movements languid, because the last thing she wants is to pull away but her head is still just a bit fuzzy and she's sore all over. It doesn't matter, though, because this is... nice. Nice in a way she hasn't experienced since the rioting started, and nice in a way she desperately needs right now.]
[He feels her bringing him back to a slower pace, and he's fine with that - it's true, he's getting ahead of himself. He's too eager for this, too desperate for this contact, and she's still hurt.]
[One hand goes to the back of her head, fingers brushing through her hair slowly - he pulls away momentarily, breathless, his voice quiet:]
I'm not hurting you, am I? [He breaths, bending in to steal another kiss, quickly.]
Ah, well, I'd say yes, but let's not make a habit of that.
[He chuckles at that, giving her a quick, sweet kiss on the cheek. A sweet kiss for an equally sweet girl. When he draws back, though, he smirks, almost looking mischievous.]
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I can't. They're killing people, I can't just leave.
[Spoken like a true Avenger, if only Kate could remember her time with them.]
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[He can't have that happen. She hugs him, and he just wants it to last forever. With him, she can be safe. With him, she won't have to do things like this and put herself in harm's way.]
Please, Kate, you...you can't win this fight. We have to get you out of here.
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[That's what it boils down to for her, and she's stubborn. She reaches for his hand, squeezing tight, her voice low and insistent.]
I can't just run and hide because it's dangerous.
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[He grits his teeth - honestly, this isn't the time to be stubborn! He squeezes her hand back, feeling his hands shake. If she's lost, if she dies, then...]
[By the Mother Tree, he wouldn't know what to do.]
Please, Kate...we can help them, just not like this. [His tone is insistent as he looks around, trying to pull her away from her position.] You can't stay.
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We have to do something. Where is everyone else?
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[He doesn't get to finish his sentence.]
[He's so distracted by her, by the thought of getting her away from danger, that he doesn't register the movement nearby - a man, dressed in the typical Company Enforcer outfit, steps out from behind a nearby building, and moves in to attack the very woman he's trying to protect.]
Kate-!
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[She does down, and it's like some string inside him snaps, and in an instant, he's turned his gaze on the attacker. He doesn't feel anything. He's already brought out his knife from the confines of his robes, and without delay, he moves in like a predator to stab it right into the man's chest. He does it again. And again. And again, until he's sure that the man's nice and dead.]
[Good.]
[He lets the corpse crumple to the ground as he moves to check Kate - oh good, she's still breathing - and pocketing his knife, he moves to scoop her up in his arms. There's a safe house nearby. He can take her there. There's blood splatter all over his robes and on his face, but he doesn't care. He can take care of it later.]
[When she'll wake up, she'll find herself in a slightly dingy room on a bed - there's the sound of running water in the background, probably from a bathroom nearby. In a few seconds, though, Steinbeck pops his head in the doorway, a relived look on his face when he sees that Kate is awake.]
Hey. Are you doing alright? You got a nasty hit back there.
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Ow.
[It's a quiet, half-audible response, and when she tries to prop herself up on her elbow, her head spins. Worse than she thought. She sinks back down to the mattress.]
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[He enters the room - he's shirtless, having removed his robes for washing, but he's still got a pair of pants on. He's sure Kate won't mind. Steinbeck makes his way to the bed, sitting down on the side to reach over and grasp her shoulder in reassurance.]
But I'm glad I got you out of there. It could've been worse.
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My hero.
[It's soft and almost teasing, but there's too much sincerity in it for it to be totally a joke.]
Did he hurt you?
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[He tries to keep his composure, but somehow, hearing her call him her hero breaks it - he squeezes her shoulder, his voice already a little choked up.]
...I was so scared I'd lose you, Kate.
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Hey, it's going to take more than a little blunt force trauma to take me out. I'm okay, John.
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[This is stupid. He shouldn't be so worried. Kate is fine, she's here, she's alive, there's no reason to get all upset over something that never happened. And yet, here he is, something dull and heavy in his chest. She touches his cheek, and he unconsciously leans into it, reaching up with his hand to grasp her hand.]
What if he had hit harder? I...I didn't react quickly. He had you down before I could even move. [He feels his eyes almost burning, like he wants to cry.] I just...I don't know. I can't stop thinking about it.
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[She leans forward, resting her forehead against his gently and closing her eyes. Now that the adrenaline is gone, she's exhausted, and she has to fight to urge to simply curl up against him.]
You'd better not beat yourself up over this. I didn't move fast enough, either.
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[A part of him wants to shake her, tell her that she shouldn't be out and about, she shouldn't pick fights she can't win. Another part wants to just hold her in his arms and stay like that forever, and forget the chaos of the world around them. And yet another part shudders at how close she is. He really could just lean forward a little...]
[He gulps.]
I'm not trying to. [But he is. He killed a man for her, and if given the chance to repeat it again, he'd do the same thing. Her safety is far more important than anything in this world.]
Kate, I...
[He moves his hand to clutch her shoulders. He feels like he's in a daze - there are so many things he wants to say, but he's scared to say them. She's so close, and he just wants to finally blurt out the truth, but...what if she doesn't feel the same way? But what id she does? He has to let her know just how important she is. He has to let her know.]
[Finally, he speaks up, his tone restrained.]
Kate...you know I'd do anything to keep you safe, right?
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[She lets her hand drop in favor of looping her arms around his waist, pulling back just enough to meet his eyes.]
I want to keep you safe, too, but I'm choosing to do this. I would be a coward if I stayed home when I knew I could help. You can't make me your responsibility.
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[All he's thinking about is how she's here, arms around him, and by the Mother Tree, she looks too beautiful for words. All his hesitations feel like they're burning away the more he looks into her eyes, like they're just ash in the wind.]
I know. Kate, I know, just...I want to make you my responsibility.
[A pause. He feels like his heart is beating in his ears.]
I want you.
[And with that, he finally gives in, leaning to close the distance with a kiss.]
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[He deepens the kiss, too excited to stop, and pulls her in closer - he might be shirtless, but he doesn't care. He'll bare it for her, scars and all.]
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[One hand goes to the back of her head, fingers brushing through her hair slowly - he pulls away momentarily, breathless, his voice quiet:]
I'm not hurting you, am I? [He breaths, bending in to steal another kiss, quickly.]
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[She's a little breathless, too, but she's smiling, leaning forward to rest her forehead against his.]
Do I get to make out with you every time I get a concussion?
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[He chuckles at that, giving her a quick, sweet kiss on the cheek. A sweet kiss for an equally sweet girl. When he draws back, though, he smirks, almost looking mischievous.]
How about we make out any time we want, then?
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Any time we want? I don't think we'll get anything done, but I'm not complaining.
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