After the Forties | 𝐁. 𝐁𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐞𝐬

𝐟𝐢𝐫𝐬𝐭

War continues to ravage Europe. But help is on the way. Every able-bodied young man is lining up to serve his country. Even little Timmy is doing his part collecting scrap metal. Nice work, Timmy!

Steve Rogers' gaze rested solemnly towards the huge screen in front of him. His knuckles touched the edge of his lips, letting his elbow resting on the chair arm. The screen showed many well-built young men working, doing their job in order to save their country. It was always in his dreams to be a part of them. Serving his country like everyone else, like his dear father. Everyone had the right, no exceptional for him. At least that was what he thought. But, after countless times of attempting, he began to think that he was not meant to be. But was it right? Was he really not meant to be?

Every time he thought of giving up, there was always something compelling him to move on and try again. And he would remind himself that he could. If everyone else could, he could. Because what was the difference between them? Right?

"Who cares? Play the movie already!"

He moved his eyes to the source of the sound. Irritation began to develop through his body. His shoulders tensed up, feeling the anger in his chest. It was just unfair. There were people serving their country, fighting all day and night, missing their family back at home. Meanwhile, there were these people who didn't do anything, not knowing the feeling of those people out there, just lying on bed, waiting for nothing, "Hey, you want to show some respect?" he said quietly, hoping the called jerk would get his point.

Meanwhile, overseas, our brave boys are showing the Axis powers that the price of freedom is never too high.

"Let's go! Get on with it! Hey, just start the cartoon!" apparently, the jerk decided to keep his mouth open. Everybody in the theater started to glance at him, feeling rather disturbed by his lack of demeanor.

"Hey, you wanna shut up?!" Steve called out, exasperation was drawn on his face. His action effected the called man. He stood up slowly from the seat, making Steve slightly gasp at how big his body looked. Deep down, he regretted for calling out the man, even more when the man turned to face him with a face of irritation. Oh, his asthma most probably relapsed that time.

He knew it was never a good idea to call out on a stranger, especially if they were a jerk. Because right now, he was back at the alley with the man that way much larger than him, receiving anger punches from the man. Actually, it was no big deal to beat out of Steve, considering his size of body. The man could just nudge him and he would fall meters away.

Steve got on his feet, standing shakily before the jerk. He wanted to prove that he was not as weak as everyone thought. But before he could do anything, the jerk threw a punch on his face for the second time, making him fall again to his knees. But he still didn't want to give up. He thought of a way to escape this fight, anything that could help him to at least buy some time before getting another punch. His eyes landed on a round metal lid of trash can behind him. Swiftly, he held it in his hands, using it as a shield. The man smirked at the pathetic attempt. He jerked the round metal thing easily from Steve's shaky hands, throwing it away, before setting another hit on Steve.

Thick red liquid running out of Steve's lips, but that didn't do anything to make him surrender. He stood up one more time, positioning his hands in a combat mode. The jerk smiled amusedly at him, feeling rather sorry for the lanky man before him, "You just don't know when to give up, do you?"

Steve breathed in and out, trying to steady his racing lungs, "I can do this all day." As a matter of fact, he was tired for saying that line every time he got himself in a pathetic fight. Because no matter how hard he tried, he would always lose. He was tired of getting bruises and wounds all over his body almost every time he got home. He was tired for being the one that could only be saved, not him saving people. He hated it that he couldn't be like his best friend, Bucky.