Incubus

Incubus Part 11

"Can you walk?" Steve asks once your bindings are loose. He comes back to your front and gently pulls you to your feet.

Your legs wobble precariously before completely giving out. "That's a no."

Steve is quick to catch you before you fall. "Alright. I've got you." He lifts your body into his arms as if you weigh nothing. You wince when all the jostling makes your stomach turn.

Steve leaves the room. The brightness of the hallway hurts your eyes. You tuck your face into his neck, trying to shy away from the light as a headache begins to develop on top of everything else.

"Shit. You're burning up!" Steve can feel the heat coming off of you in waves.

"Really? I hadn't noticed," you mumble dryly.

Steve walks as quickly as he can through the base, though it takes a little longer since he's trying to use hallways he knows will be abandoned. If anyone sees him, he can easily enough tell them that he's just taking you to the infirmary, but he'd rather avoid any unnecessary interactions. "We won't be able to use a translocation circle to get out of here. It'll alert the crew and they'll be able to track us. Will you make it if we fly?" Steve asks you.

"Only one way to find out, I guess. But if I throw up on your wings, I'm not apologizing."

Steve finds his lips tilting upward ever so slightly. "Glad Rumlow wasn't able to wipe out that sarcasm."

"Rumlow's a prick," you mutter in disgust.

That makes him frown. "Y/N, I'm so sorry. I never should have left you with him. If I had known-"

"But you did know," you argue, though your voice is weak, it's still accusatory. "It's why you hesitated when Pierce ordered you."

Steve winces at the truth of your words. "But we don't do this. Not to our own kind. Not to those that are innocent."

If your throat wasn't so raw, you would have scoffed. "I can't tell if you're truly that ignorant. Or just stupid."

Your conversation is put on hold when Steve finally steps out onto the back deck. The wind whips at your hair and face. The coolness of it feels good against your heated skin, but the rush of air also burns your lungs.

"If you drop me, I'm going to haunt you for the rest of my undead life," you warn feebly.

"I'm not going to drop you," Steve responds, unsheathing his wings and letting them stretch out. He pulls your body closer into his chest before he takes off.

You crack open your eyes, watching over his shoulder as the distance between yourselves and the Helicarrier grows. You release the breath you didn't even realize you had been holding. "I sincerely hope this isn't some figment of my imagination drummed up by the venom," you mutter quietly.

"Venom?" Steve questions, glancing down at your face as you tuck it back against his shoulder.

"Rumlow forced me to drink arachnae venom," you wince, your body reminding you of the burning pain with a particularly intense throb.

You feel Steve's entire body stiffen. "Shit," he curses, before beating his wings a little faster. "Hang on, Y/N. At least until I can get you back to Wanda."

"Wanda?" you ask in confusion.

"She performed a clairvoyance spell to check on you. When she realized something was wrong she told me to come looking for you."

"Why would she do that?"

"Because she was worried about you. She does see you as a friend, Y/N."