Back to You [An Endgame Continuation]

Unabridged

/ˌənəˈbrijd/
adjective
not cut short or brought to a halt; complete.

It was so difficult to keep calm as I wrote this chapter— you guys don't even know. I've been wanting to write this for almost five years. Thank you for 8K! When we get to double digits I'm going to flip out! XxLauren_luv

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p.o.v: Steve

My heart was pounding against my rib cage and I couldn't decide if it was because of what had just happened, or what was about to happen.

The driver sped into the city with anxious haste, and the agent next to me had to tell him to slow down a number of times, dabbing at the sweat on his own forehead with a stained handkerchief.

"I'm sorry Jones, would you like me to slow down? Give the guy a better chance to get a shot at us?"

"Hey— no one's gettin shot, okay?" I clarified as I looked at the driver's ashen face from the rear view mirror. "If we were supposed to, we would've been," I added under my breath as I leaned back out the window and peered at the city lights that caused various colored to dance over my face.

"Well that's reassuring, thank you, Captain," the driver spit out as he turned the steering wheel around a corner, and when I glanced over at the other agent, his face seemed to say "he's got a point."

I sighed and tried to level with them. "We're gonna be fine, I'm serious." I angled my chin towards the road. "Just drop me at 54th and Church."

A dry cackle escaped the driver's smoke-torn throat. "Yeah, fat chance big guy. I'm taking you to our holding facility upstate."

My stomach lurched. "What?"

"We need to get you somewhere safe sir," The agent with the gelled over hair informed me. His tone was shaky as he took in my fuming gaze. "We can't risk the chance of you getting put in anymore danger."

My eyes darted between the two of them. "And what about Margaret Carter? Doesn't she need to be somewhere safe too?"

"She's not our responsibility. You are," the diver with the bald spot answered matter-of-factly, and my jaw clenched as I paused to gain control of my voice.

"Turn this car around," I warned, and although the driver let off the gas, his hands still gripped the wheel.

"It's not.. safe sir—"

"I'm not leaving without her," I interjected, and I surprised myself with how protective my voice became. "Turn this car around if you still want to leave it in one piece."

They paused, and for a moment the only sound in the car was the tires racing against the pavement. Then their expressions faltered once they realized what I was capable of, and the driver turned down a street to make a u-Turn. "Your funeral buddy," he said, and my eyebrows flinched upwards in irony.

"Wouldn't be the first."

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Snow had started falling, although with it being nighttime, the only places you could see the snowflakes were in front of traffic lights and below street lamps. It seemed to have driven quite the number of people inside, for we were only one of the few cars in the street once we stopped in front of the Stork Club.

The large glass window at the front allowed an abundance of golden yellow light to spill onto the street, and I unbuckled my seatbelt and started feeling around behind my seat.

"You have a death wish or something?" The younger agent named Jones asked me as he looked out my window to peer at the restaurant. Anyone else after an incident like this would've turned tail and ran.