Steve Rogers/Captain America One Shots

In His Arms

The sound of the rubber soles on the bottom of your shoes echoed around you, as they scraped harshly against the once polished hallway, as your body was dragged forward. You were standing in a slouched position, taking any possible step you could forward on your own, but it was futile as the perpetrator who held you captive practically hauled your body forward, as though you were nothing more than a limp corpse. While his thick and tightening arm was strung across your neck, like a boa constrictor wrapping around that of a tree limb. And you could feel as the muscles in his arm tightened, the air you could breathe in becoming lessened. His opposite hand held tightly to a gun that was bruising your temple as he pressed it further into your flesh, the cold metal touch sending a shiver down your spine at the contact. Every inch of your body soared with a heat that made you feel weak. The body heat radiating off of the frightening man who held you hostage, seeping in through the thin cotton material of your shirt, as his body pressed into yours with each passing step he forced you to take in tandem with him. And your hands that gripped to the arm wrapped tightly around your neck, clawing at the searing flesh with your fingernails, felt slippery against his bare flesh as the sweat collected on your palms. Every inch of your body felt burning with fear and adrenaline, but the muzzle of the gun pressed against your skull, was unnervingly the only slight whisper of coolness to touch your skin.

Your chest ached with a pressure so strong, that you were convinced your heart would give out. For you could feel the way it pumped inside of you, pounding against your rib cage like a wild animal begging to be freed. And your lungs burned as the oxygen that traveled to it became scarcer with the passing seconds. But even as you could feel the pain that tightened your entire chest, you felt relatively numb. Shock taking over your mind as you could barely process what was happening to you in that very moment, or how any of it had even begun to begin with. It was as though someone had zapped and completely fried your brain, but somehow your body still went on. For you could feel the cold metal against your skin and the undeniable fear coursing through your veins, but your head felt dead. Like your brain had gone completely black. Tears streamed down your face as you gasped for a breath as the man's arm felt crushing against your windpipe. The salty trails only adding to the searing heat that overwhelmed your body, as you felt the droplets fall upon your hands that grasped to his arm, the mixture of your sweat and tears making the flesh slippery and harder to hold onto. 

The squeaking sound of your shoes scraping against the floor, continued to bounce off of the walls around you. As the thundering impact of his thick combat boots hit the SHEILD hallway with a pressure you swore could rattle the walls. You couldn't see the long winding hallway that lay behind you, all of the ground you had traveled trapped within this assailant's grasp, but you could see the light of an exit glowing up ahead. The tall marble toned white walls of the building towered over you on both sides, but even as the walkway was fairly spacious, you felt confined in a narrow tunnel. And you feared reaching the end. 

When you were able to breathe even the faintest of a fresh breath, the distinct scent of smoke filled your senses. The fire that had encapsulated the building on the lower levels clung to the man's clothing in dark soot and ash, and the rich burning scent made your lungs sting as it wrapped around you as though a second arm. The darkness of the fire was present under your fingernails that dug into his arm, the soot collecting deep under the surface. Reminding you of not only the fear of being trapped in the building that began to burn around you, but the way this menace hauled you out of the fire, only to hold you hostage at gunpoint as he lead you up towards the roof. Bringing you away from the flames... but closer to a danger you feared was worse than the first.

As the glowing light of day illuminated the end of the hallway, growing closer as the door out came into view, a faint sound entered your ears. It was hard to hear over the racing of your heart and the blood rushing in your ears, but you picked it up as a third sound of steps fell into harmony with yours and your captor's. They were powerful, hitting the stained floor with conviction and purpose, but there was something about them that didn't fill you with dread like the man's who held you did. These were loud although stealth like. They were strong and yet didn't make the flooring sound as though it would crumble like stone beneath him. They hit the ground roughly, and yet something about the boots filled your burning chest with a fluttering sense of hope.