Luke Henry is cursed to live for (aneternity) wrote in rooms,
Re: quicklog, marvel (nyc): luke h & bucky b
Luke was aware of the stairs, but his main focus was the knife and keeping it away from his throat. The blade was sharp, and he didn't particularly feel like a brush with death today. Who the man was, he still had no idea, but he fought well and no one who was armed and this careful about being followed could be up to anything good. No, he was hiding something. And whatever it was, he was going to find out—and stop it. Maybe most cops wouldn't, but he wasn't most cops and he'd seen too much bad in his life to sit back and do nothing.
Oblivious to the fact that the man thought he'd been sent by someone, Luke fought back against the opposing pressure much the same way; it was a struggle, each determined to push back. If he could just wrest away the knife and get his gun—but then there was a sharp pain in his knee, a feeling that churned in his stomach as he realized he was going down the stairs whether he liked it or not. He could have fought to pull the man down with him but let go instead; at least it meant the threat of the knife was momentarily gone.
He never hit the stairs. Not on his back, anyway.
Instead he twisted his body, again in that unnatural way, folding into a roll that—while painful—prevented broken bones or head injuries. He wasn't giving up that easily, no sir, and he managed to stop himself halfway down, heels against the stair, and turned. In one swift motion he reached for his gun, pulled it from its holster, and aimed it at the man atop the stairs. "NYPD. Stand down."