Steve wasn't sure what he expected when Natasha said she had a plan, but he'd been hoping it was more thought out than it was. It was still better than anything he had in mind, considering he didn't have even the slightest plan, but at least staying in their cell guaranteed there wouldn't be a gunfight.

"Are you sure you can do this?" Steve asked, watching as Natasha uncuffed his wrists.

Apparently, she'd known how to break out of the chains within ten minutes of being put in them ("No use in escaping just to stay in the same place.").

"Of course," she answered easily. She grimaced as she reached for his second cuff from where she sat on the floor. "I'm the one that came up with the plan, remember?"

"No, I mean the running part," Steve said as his second hand was released.

Natasha sat back so she was no longer putting pressure on her injured leg and breathed deeply. Steve eyed her worriedly.

"You've got my back, right?" she asked, looking up at him. Steve nodded.

"Always," he promised. She gave him a small smile and nodded.

"I'll be fine then." 

Rather than return to her own wall, she shifted to sit beside Steve while they waited. There was no guarantee that they would be brought food or even questioned anytime soon, but when they were, they would be prepared. Until then, though, Steve was going to just appreciate having Natasha at his side after having been separated for so long.

* * * *

At the sound of the first lock being turned, Steve clambered to his feet. His body ached and protested every movement, but he ignored it. As carefully as he could, he looped an arm under Natasha's shoulders and hauled her to her feet. The second she was standing, her leg crumpled underneath her and Steve wobbled. Before Steve could voice his worry, Natasha shook her head.

"Just focus on the plan," she said.

Although worried, Steve nodded and helped her hurry towards the door as the third lock clicked. She leaned against the wall and Steve stepped away. Rolling his shoulders, he hoped that whoever was about to enter would be alone. 

Their cell door opened and a soldier walked in carrying a single tray of food. As his eyes landed on Steve, he turned to raise an alarm but Natasha stepped out of his blind spot and snapped his neck before he could. The soldier dropped dead in front of her.

"Get changed," she hissed at Steve.

He scrambled to change into the guard's uniform. Even though Natasha had reset his dislocated shoulder, it still throbbed as he pulled the uniform shirt over his head. With a groan, he tugged on the soldier's pants and buckled them hurriedly. 

As he pulled the soldier's hat onto his head, someone called out from the other side of the door.

Steve froze and Natasha's eyes dropped to the dead, naked soldier. When her eyes moved back up to Steve's, he realised a rather major flaw in their plan: he didn't look like the soldier at all. Where the soldier had dark hair and narrower shoulders, Steve was much taller and blond. Hopefully the man outside didn't know his partner very well.

"Hurry," Natasha hissed at him. 

Fully dressed, Steve turned to Natasha and her arm. She stumbled as she took a step forward, but scowled at Steve when he tried to help her walk.

"You have a role to play," she reminded him. 

Steve pursed his lips and glanced down at her leg before nodding. "I'm sorry."

As best he could, he helped her walk out of the cell and pushed past the man outside. He ducked his head, but the other man still called for him to stop. After a flurry of German, Natasha whispered a hasty response that Steve repeated. As soon as he'd finished speaking, they hurried down the hall.

They made it all the way to the end of the hall without a problem. When they came to a stairwell, however, Steve stopped and frowned. 

"Can you―"

"Yes," Natasha interrupted, but she was already grimacing. 

For a moment, Steve considered picking her up so she wouldn't have to climb up the stairs with her injured leg, but another soldier appeared above them before he could. Steeling himself and mentally apologising to Natasha, he started up the stairs with her at his side.

"Where are you going, comrade?" the soldier asked, coming to a stop beside Steve on the stairwell.

"She's wanted by Schmidt," Steve lied, changing his voice at the last minute. "No questions asked."

The soldier sneered at Natasha and when he continued down the stairs past them, he kicked her legs out from under her. She dropped to her knees, crying out in pain as the edge of the stairs dug into her knees and the wound on her leg broke open.

For a moment, Steve almost wrung the soldier's neck. As he turned towards the man, though, Natasha grabbed his leg and his attention was redirected to her. Leaning down, Steve looped his arms under her shoulder and pulled her back to her feet. When he glanced down, however, he was unsurprised to discover her leg had started bleeding again.

"Keep going," she breathed as the soldier disappeared behind them. She was shaking and he could hear the pain in her voice, but she insisted on continuing up the stairs.

Even though her body had to be screaming at her, Natasha limped up the stairs without so much as a groan. Nevertheless, Steve made a more conscious effort to support her and she didn't object.

They made it up two flights of stairs before an alarm went off.  Even though he didn't understand the announcement that came through the overhead speakers, he knew they had been discovered.

Before Natasha could translate the message or attempt to protest, Steve picked her up and ran the rest of the way up the stairs. As he came to a stop at the top level, the first group of soldiers appeared in front of them. 

"Captain Rogers!"

The first soldier raised his gun at the and the others followed suit. None of them fired. 

"Stand down and we will not shoot," the first soldier promised as Steve carefully let go of Natasha.

"Yeah, I know how that goes," Steve muttered.

Lunging forward, he punched the first soldier in the face and ripped the gun from his hands before tossing it to Natasha. Without checking to make sure she had caught it, he moved towards the next soldier. 

Above him, three gunshots went off. He ducked and turned around to check on Natasha, but she was right where he had left her. Beside him, the remaining soldiers dropped to the ground. Dead.

"Look," Natasha said, waving the gun in her hand, "now we have a gun to bring to the gunfight."

She grinned and Steve couldn't stop the small smile that spread across his face. Hurrying back up the stairs, he pulled Natasha's arm back over his shoulder before moving towards the nearest door. 

"Great," Steve muttered, "We're going to need it."

He yanked open the door only to pull it shut a second later. A round of gunfire echoed from the other side of the door and the sound of bullets embedding themselves in the door made Steve grimace.

"How accurate can you shoot without seeing the target?" It was an entirely rhetorical question, but Steve still asked. 

"How well can Sam fly his wings?" Natasha retorted with a smirk.

Steve pulled the door open once again, but only far enough that Natasha could get her handgun through. The guns down the hall fired again, but after seven carefully aimed shots from Natasha, the guns went silent.

At Natasha's nod, Steve opened the door slowly and they slipped into the empty hall.

"There's an exit to the right," Natasha murmured, pointing down the hall. With Steve hurrying beside her, they made it around the corner moments before more soldiers came pouring into the hall after them.

Pressed against the wall, Steve waited as Natasha fired her gun at the new group of soldiers. He snagged a gun from one of the soldiers she had shot earlier and pushed open the exit door to his left.

There were only a handful of guards posted outside and Steve took care of them just as Natasha turned to follow him out.

"Now where?" Steve asked, grabbing a handgun off one of the outside guards and handing it to Natasha. She dropped her previous gun and pointed into the forest in front of them.

"In there," she said.

With a nod, Steve looped his arm under hers again and ran towards the forest. She didn't make a protest even when Steve stumbled over a log and almost dropped her. As they moved deeper into the forest, though, it became more difficult to keep his hold on her.

As Steve jumped over a fallen tree, Natasha's arm slipped from his shoulders and he barely turned around in time to keep her from falling to the ground completely. Behind them, he could hear shouting and knew there would be soldiers following them soon, but he still helped Natasha sit down for a moment.

"They'll look for us in here," Natasha muttered, dropping a hand to her leg. She bit her lip and squeezed her eyes in pain as her hands came away bloody. 

"Nat..." Steve hovered, unsure how to help or what he could do.

"We keep going," she said. She adjusted the torn bandage around her leg but it did nothing to stop the bleeding. With a grimace, she got back to her feet and said, "The sooner we get back, the sooner we can call for help."

"We can't outrun them," Steve said. Through the trees, he could already make out soldiers moving towards the forest.

"We have to try."

With a short nod, Steve lifted her into his arms and moved further into the forest. Branches scratched his face and his previously dislocated shoulder ached, but he didn't stop. Stopping meant being found and he wasn't going to make it any easier for Hydra to find them than it already was.

He ran until he broke through the treeline. Crashing through the trees, he stumbled onto a narrow road and blinked in surprise. After catching his bearings, Steve started walking down the road.

"Take a break," Natasha said. Steve shook his head.

"No," he said. "They'll catch us."

"You've been running for who knows how long," Natasha protested. "At the very least, let me walk."

"You're injured," he reminded her, his eyes darting to where her leg was still bleeding slowly. 

"You're injured too." She raised an eyebrow at him and Steve rolled his eyes.

"Out of the two of us, you're the worst off," he argued.

Natasha frowned but Steve knew she had nothing more to argue her case. While her leg had taken the most damage, Steve still suspected her ribs were broken and she'd been beat pretty harshly. If he was in no condition to fight, she was certainly in no condition to walk.

"If you really feel bad," Steve said, "you can take me out for coffee when we're back in New York."

Natasha's jaw dropped and Steve grinned.

"Are you actually asking me out?" she demanded, her eyes narrowing. "We are on the run from a Hydra and the KGB, yet you're asking me on a date?"

"It wouldn't feel right in any other situation," he replied cheekily, though really he hadn't intended to say it at all. "Will you at least humour me with an answer?"

Natasha laughed (which was so wonderful to hear compared to the screams of pain he'd been hearing for so long, he almost cried).

Even though she was laughing at his own expense, Steve still find himself smiling. Especially when, through her laughter, she said yes.