Chapter Forty-Eight: Ogygia

1.1K 24 3
                                    


Steve watched as Adora spewed a huge list of supplies they’d need, ranging from weapons, to random items he didn’t know were needed. Why did they need ladder? Adora seemed to already have a plan, like she always did, but it was elaborate. That was all he could gather from her list of items.

Sam was currently writing down everything Adora said, his face changing with each word.”Uh huh, uh huh” he would mutter every couple seconds, and Natasha would chuckle. Steve shifted his weight from his left foot, to his right, feeling uneasy.

“Adora” he said, interrupting her. She turned her eyes to his, and he felt uncomfortable under her scrutinizing gaze. Even though she wasn’t glaring at him, she aliases seemed to have that effect on him. She was that kind of person, that made you have a guilty conscience. Mostly because she could read your mind.

“Yes, Steve?” she asked sweetly, obviously sensing his unease. He grimaced, placing a hand on his hip, and grasping the table beside him, looking at the ground.

“Are you sure we need all this stuff? Where are we even going, anyway?” he asked her, his eyes watching her.

She smiled at him. He knew that smile, it was the smile that meant she was hiding something. He knew Adora better than she thought, and her eyes flashed as he purposefully spoke each thought in his head.

“Yes we need all this stuff. You don’t get to know where we’re going. Sorry” she said breezily, and he narrowed his eyes at her.

“Is it a place I know?” he asked, “Is it close to here?” She tilted her head, tapping her chin.

“It’s a place you know, and yes it’s particularly close to here. You should know the place well” she said matter-of-factly, and that only made Steve want to ask more questions. He let out a huff, his hands itching to grip a pencil.

Suddenly, his body was propelling himself forward, and a pencil was in his hand, along with a piece of paper, and he was walking into the bedroom, away from the confused faces of Sam, Natasha, and Adora.

The pencil was on the paper before he had even sat down on the soft bed, his hand traveling across the paper effortlessly.

It felt like he wasn’t even controlling his hand, and he barely knew what he was drawing, he just know he was drawing.

Steve sat there, for several minutes, and only then did the drawing start to make sense. It was a forest, with a beautiful cluster of flowers.

But they were ripped out of the ground.

They were so delicate-looking, so soft, and inviting, and it pained Steve, in some way he’d never felt before, just looking at them ripped from the ground. Soon enough, leaves started to grow, along with vines, wrapping around tree trunks, all moving around one thing.

A bench.

It was wooden, and old, pieces of bark curling off of it. Words started to appear in the white space above the picture as Steve’s hand traveled across the paper.

An oath to keep with a final breath

His brows furrowed. What did that mean? He stumbled upward, practically tripping off the bed, and ran right into Adora. She peered up at him, her eyes curious.

“Can I see your drawing?” she asked carefully, her eyes trying to peek at the paper. Steve nodded, looking down confusedly at his hands, giving her the paper. A gasp escaped her lips as her eyes fell upon the silky paper.

“No” she breathed, the paper falling out of her hands, and her eyes trailing up to meet his fearfully.

“Why’d you draw this?” she asked harshly, staring accusingly at him.

Toxic | Steve Rogers Where stories live. Discover now