MARVEL IMAGINES

SAM WILSON - FLIGHT

You ran up the stairs of the skyscraper as fast as your legs would move, your breath heaving from the effort. You could hardly breathe, but you didn't have a second to spare to stop and take a rest. You were an intern at S.H.I.E.L.D., and the building which you worked in had just come under attack. You didn't know who, why, or how it had happened, all you knew was that one of the enemy agents was chasing after you. And he wasn't looking to take anyone alive.

You had watched him ruthlessly kill your supervisor before your very eyes. Foolishly, you had screamed in horror upon seeing the agent snap your boss' neck, and the agent turned to you next. You had turned to the nearest doorway for escape, which, by very unfortunate chance, turned out to be the stairwell. You had no idea how you were still alive. The agent had been shooting bullets at you sporadically, most of them ricocheting off the walls or the metal handles of the stairs. You weren't a field agent. You didn't know how to fight or the best strategies to survive. All you knew was how to run, and fast. Thank goodness for that extra cardio you had been doing.

You let out a cry as one of the agent's bullets found its target. You weren't sure if the bullet only grazed your arm or if the adrenaline prevented you from feeling the entire range of pain, but you kept pushing up and up the stairs. Every part of your body was burning with the strenuous effort it was taking to keep moving, but in a matter of life and death it was a minuscule problem.

You passed dead S.H.I.E.L.D agents on your way up the stairs and forced yourself to look away and to not break into tears. There wasn't any time to mourn. You nearly cried as your eyes landed on a doorway - an exit. You would make it. You'd be okay.

You pushed open the doorway and ran forwards as quickly as your body would let you, nearly falling on your face. It wasn't just any exit. It was the roof.

"Oh god," you cried, running around and trying to find any possible way out. But there was nothing. The enemy agent burst through the doorway, an evil grin on his face as he saw you.

"Well, well, well .... you thought you could just run and hide, huh?" He reloaded his gun.

You whimpered as you backed up, away from him. "Please- please don't kill me."

Your feet hit the edge of the rooftop, and you looked over your shoulder. You had nowhere else to go. The only thing for you was a seventeen floor drop to death. You could make out tiny dots of people running for their lives, and you wished desperately that you were down there with them.

He saw this, and smiled even wider. You suddenly noticed the skull-octopus patch on his chest, and everything made sense. H.Y.D.R.A. "Say bye-bye, princess."

"Please don't-"

He fired.

You screamed and ducked down, but in your efforts to avoid his bullets your foot slipped. It seemed to happen in slow motion: You felt yourself fall backwards, your body leaving the rooftop and bullets behind. The H.Y.D.R.A agent leaned over and sneered happily as he watched you fall. You were screaming, but the wind whooshed around you so aggressively that it drowned out any noise you made.

The ground was getting closer and closer, dangerously fast. You finally shut your eyes and accepted your fate when out of nowhere, there was a swooshing sound and the feeling of someone's arms around you. The feeling of falling had stopped and was replaced with the feeling of ... flying. You opened one eye the teensiest crack to see that you were no longer falling towards your death but flying away from it: the now-burning building you had been on top of was now behind you.

Whomever's arms you were in were very strong, with not a hint of give. You had never been more grateful. You attempted to turn your head to get a glimpse of your savior, but the wind and angle proved to make it difficult.