Not The Only One
The ride home was silent. It had to be. You were on the back of Steve's motorcycle and the roar of the engine blocked out any other sound. You were clinging to him for dear life, only partially noticing the chiseled firmness of his torso. You had never been on a motorcycle before. Your mom didn't approve and you saw no reason to change that when she was gone. You swiveled left onto the turnpike when sirens behind you indicated of an incoming firetruck. Steve pulled to the side and idled his engine. "Must be something minor, F.R.I.D.A.Y. hasn't mentioned anything." You shrugged it off, now focusing on the cool fall air of New York. Your cardigan wasn't cutting it with an open vehicle. The truck passed and Steve started up again.
The ride took less time than it did with Happy. Most likely because you could switch lanes effortlessly on the bike. Steve turned the corner to your street and the first thing you noticed was the fire truck parked to the right of the building. The second was the ash and soot that drifted where your apartment used to be. The shanty old building that used to stand six stories tall now looked depressing at a near half that. Steve immediately cut the motor. "Shit." You looked to him sharply, never hearing a curse word come from Captain America's mouth before. It hadn't clicked yet. My apartment was on the fourth floor.
The firefighters had finished their job, the building only spewing ash and smoke at this point. You ran past them, not caring that the structure was unsafe. You almost breached the doors when it felt like you had hit a brick wall. "Y/N, Y/N, you can't!"
"I don't care! Let me go!" You struggled against Steve's grip, pushing against him, and even fighting him when that didn't work. You didn't care about anything else except retrieving one artifact from your old domain. The picture on the nightstand. Everything else was disposable, but pictures were not. The captain of the first responders finally caught up with the two of you. "Ma'am, I'm sorry, the building isn't secure. We're expecting a cave in and the block has been evacuated. Were you a resident?" You stopped fighting Steve and looked blankly at the middle aged man. "I was. Were you able to salvage anything?"
"A few things from the upper floors. Which were you?"
"The fourth, I was on the fourth floor. I don't care about anything else, but did you find any frames or pictures?!" The man's face fell and Steve released you from his iron grip. "I'm so sorry ma'am. The blaze seemed to have originated from the fourth floor. Everything was lost." Your breath caught. "How?"
"Excuse me?"
"How did it start?" You were mentally preparing to torture whatever moron had left a candle lit or the heat too high. The captain sighed, walking back to the truck. He returned moments later, a trinket in his palm. "This was the cause of the blaze. We don't know what it is, do you recognize it?" You grabbed the device from his palm, turning it over and analyzing it. For all you knew, it could be alien technology. Steve grabbed it from your hand looking it over. He sighed, "Thank you sir, for all that you do."
"I could say the same Captain." They nodded at each other and the firefighter left the scene, leaving you with Steve. You eyed him, awaiting the explanation. He never met your gaze, "I was afraid of this..."
"Afraid of what?" He didn't answer, simply turning the strange device over in his hands. "Steve, afraid of what?" You said a bit more fervently. It felt like ages before he finally met your gaze. "We may not have been the only ones looking for you..."