Saving Steve (Steve Rogers x Reader)

Chapter 9 - Questions

The car smells like new leather. A scent you usually enjoy. But right now it threatens to make you queasy as you fight off the remnants of air-sickness from the 45 minute helicopter ride. 

You let out a deep breath, willing your stomach to settle. Metal handcuffs pinch the skin of your wrists, and an anxious cold sweat breaks out across your forehead as the two large men you're squeezed tightly between do nothing to help ease your claustrophobia.

"Where are you taking me?" you ask quietly. For the hundredth time.

But no one responds. 

"Where did the Secretary go?" 

Silence.

"I don't understand...why am I in handcuffs?"

Nothing.

"I-I want a lawyer," you whimper.

This solicits a breathy laugh from the agent on your right. But again, no one responds.

Staring out the front windshield, the rolling hills of upstate New York pass you by in shades of green and yellow. You wonder how much further you have to go when you spot a metal security fence in the distance. 

As the car nears it opens automatically, the rural country road giving way to a pavement. A few minutes later a massive building comes into view. It's beautiful. A manicured lawn out front, two large wings that branch off from the main building, and a taller tower in the middle. And is that...a lake behind it?

If you weren't scared to death, you'd be stunned by the beauty of this massive compound. This clearly isn't a prison. Or a courthouse. So...where exactly are you?

"What is this place?" you ask quietly.

Again, no one answers as the car pulls up to the front entrance of the building and you're pulled roughly from your seat.

"This way," one of the agents says, his voice gruff and laced with impatience.

As he leads you into the building, you're guided down a long hallway and pass what looks to be a large common area, complete with a kitchen on the far side. As you take in your surroundings, you gasp when you see a man with crimson skin standing silently near the large floor to ceiling windows.

At your gasp, the man turns - his eyes staring straight through you, a yellow stone in the middle of his forehead.

"You," you breathe out with a scowl, recognizing him. 

You have seen him once before. On TV. In a battle overseas.

He's an Avenger.

Stunned, a sudden realization causes you to feel like the air has been knocked from your lungs. You struggle to feel the breaths you take as you glance around, confused.

Am I...at the Avengers Compound?

Rage coils deep inside your body and bitter resentment stabs at your chest as you realize that you've been brought to the very place that those so-called "heroes" call home. Those "heroes" that let Manhattan burn beneath their feet. That let buildings crumble. That let people die.

That let your brother die.

Then who abandoned the city. Who left the people to clean up their mess and live with the consequences of their actions while they got to flee upstate.

Angry tears brim in your eyes as you stare in furious indignation at the man. You don't remember him being a part of the Chitauri attack, but it doesn't matter. He's one of them. He's just as guilty as the rest.