𝟏𝟗𝟒𝟐 | 𝐄𝐍𝐆𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐇 𝐍𝐀𝐕𝐀𝐋 𝐁𝐀𝐒𝐄

curtis biddick had never felt fear like this. well, he’d been scared before, though he was reluctant to admit it. he’d been in his fair share of plane crashes and trivial fist fights after too many drinks, but this didn’t compare. he swore he could feel his stomach drop as bucky recited the news. you, in the base hospital? he might as well have crashed his plane.

he raced through the base, the cheery chatter of men only a dull background noise, a stark contrast to his panicked expression. he pushed his way through the bodies that were packed into the hospital, injured or grieving, he didn’t care. his eyes searched frantically, his stomach curling at all the injured bodies that weren’t yours. he was seconds away from letting out a frustrated scream, before he spotted you. the sight of you lying still in the hospital bed made his heart sink.

he shot over to you, sinking into the seat beside your bed as he looked over your unmoving figure.