Phoenix

Her high pitched screams carried down the hall through every open door sending everyone in a fit of goose bumps and bad thoughts. Whenever they ran experiments this would happen and no matter how often it occurred it didn’t cease to create an eerie tension in the air.

Steve was on the verge of screaming himself. Not from the noise, but from the agony it was causing him to hear her pain. They wouldn’t let him within twenty feet of the door that lead him to her and as much as he wanted to march through the feeble guards he didn’t.

He was scared.

Scared that whatever they were doing to her would make her hate him. Make her look at him differently. Like he was a part of this whole operation.

And technically he was. He was their fighter, their warrior, and he did nearly everything they asked him to.

‘Go fight.’ He fought.
‘Save that girl.’ She was saved.
‘Don’t get attached.’ This one he might have forgotten.

It was hard not to get attached to the girl tied to the chair with the droopy eyes. Under heavy sedation she appeared to be harmless but he knew better. He knew under that caked up exterior there was a fire growing to be set free and he was going to help her.

He just wasn’t sure how.

“Rogers!” The brunette lifted his head from the tight grip of his fingers in his hair and met the gaze of his commander. “Get your decorated ass up to the surface and prepare for the next invasion.”

“What about Phoenix, sir?” It was the first thought that spilled off his lips and he didn’t miss the way the commander’s face hardened.

“Don’t worry about a petty girl when our nation is under attack, soldier,” he all but spat. Steve pursed his lips but said nothing, his feet carrying him out of the room and away from the scream plaguing his mind. Taking a deep breath he grabbed his shield that waited for him in the weapons room and jogged up a flight of stairs to join the men who were awaiting the order to attack.

Even under the spray of bullets Steve couldn’t take his mind off the girl who had invaded his heart. Her twisted smile and the way she spoke replayed like a broken record as he knocked out another man who came toward him. He had been visiting her for the last few days as often as he was allowed and enjoyed hearing her ramble about things that weren’t important.

The sound of her voice was imprinted in his memory and he absolutely despised the idea of that sound being mutilated by screams of torment.

With a grunt he threw his shield as hard as he could at a group of men coming around the corner of the street and watched them fall like dominos, some in a haze, and smirked when some of them got back to their feet. He was fond of a challenge and with the newfound energy coursing through his veins, he was ready to wipe out the parasites that wanted to take refuge in his country.

Because now, he realized, he had a purpose. Something other than a flag to fight for.

He had her.

The Phoenix.