Chapter Text
It’s early morning 6am. Steve is out on his morning run on his favorite nature trail. The sun is just barely starting to rise, providing enough light to see through the dense fog. He lets his mind wander to the fantastical realms from the books and movies of his childhood. He’s an adventurer on a thrilling quest. The trees around him are sentient and ancient and have seen empires rise and fall. They guide the noble and true through and around the dangers hidden amongst the forest.
He hears… singing up ahead in the distance? It’s beautiful. A soft, yet deep voice that carries through the mist. He doesn’t understand the words, but they pierce through his soul and lure him in. The voice promises love and bliss and—
Wow. His imagination is wild this morning, but he rolls with it.
The sun rises slightly higher, glowing streaks of orange cutting through the fog.
He tries to picture who the voice belongs to. A young elf, handsome, with a strong jaw, perhaps…
The voice stops. Damn. Guess his imagination can only do so much at once.
The path ahead curves, sunlight beaming overhead just past the bend. He can make out a figure in the distance wearing— wearing a cloak??
Steve wipes the sweat from his eyes. There’s no way.
Steve has never hallucinated before. Not without being fed something made by Clint first. He quickly recalls everything he’s had to eat in the last 12 hours. Nothing suspect.
As he gets closer the figure quickly turns their back and raises a sleeve to face, trying to obscure their face and hide behind the fabric. The sleeve is ornate, covering layers of other fine fabrics underneath.
“Shit!” The figure hisses before shuffling off the path, tugging at something with his other arm.
Steve slows down as he gets a better look. The man is beautiful. Dressed as fine as the young elf he pictured in his mind not moments ago. Not as delicate, but still as handsome, with a shape that suggests strength and grace. There’s no way he’s capable of hallucinating this. He can’t be real either.
He’s slowed down to a very lazy jog and shamelessly takes the man in. Gawking, almost.
“Alpine! No!” Is the last thing he hears before a piercing screech rips through the trees and pain sears through his shins. Steve falls over, tipping over his own feet and a mass of white fluff. The world goes black.