Draw Me Your Worries | S. Rogers x Reader

Ch. 1 - Art Classes

Steve was walking back to his apartment from another few hours at the gym. It seemed as though the only way to get rid of all that he was feeling was to punch a punching bag until the chain broke off its hinges.

When he wasn't going on missions for SHIELD, he had nothing else to do. And that's when his PTSD started kicking in.

He would get flashbacks from the war, and from crashing into the ice. Fighting the Nazis and HYDRA for years didn't just disappear after he woke up from a coma. His most common one was of his suicide mission on that HYDRA bomber plane, determined to die to save the world as he said his last goodbyes to the love of his life.

The nightmares kept him up when it was dark. He would either wake up in the middle of the night in a cold sweat or not sleep at all in fear of seeing the war again through dreams. He was constantly forced to relive his most terrifying moments over and over again, day and night.

It was a couple months after the New York attack, two weeks beforehand he had woken up from being frozen for 67 years. Needless to say, he wasn't used to the present-day. Practically everything was different.

Little was given to him to help adjust. There was no plan to integrate him to society, no one for him to talk to or learn from. All they did was give him some clothes and an apartment in New York, both of which were styled old-timey. The only thing that he was really glad about was that he got his Harley Davidson back.

He had his army uniform and his new Captain America suit, which looked too much like the USO costume he wore to sell war bonds in. Wearing it reminded him of a time when he felt like a dancing monkey, being used for the government's gain and not for what he was created to do.

They probably thought they were helping him by giving him semi-familiar things, trying to make him comfortable, but it really only made him feel even more disconnected to everyone and everything in the present.

SHIELD also gave him the files of his group of men during the war. They just held a stamped "DECEASED" in bold red lettering. Even Howard Stark, the greatest American engineer and inventor of his time, was gone. All of his closest friends were dead.

Steve spent a great deal of time mourning. Peggy, who he had been in love with for 2 years, was old and gray. She must have been 91 by now. All SHIELD told him was that she was now suffering from Alzheimer's, so it was a bad idea to see or talk to her. It was tempting, as her telephone number and address was on her file, but he never did.

His best friend was gone before he got frozen, yet he was still trying to get over his death. Steve grew up with Bucky and cherished him like he would a brother. He knew there was nothing he could do to save him from falling into that ravine, but he couldn't help but blame himself.

Fighting in the Avengers Initiative was helpful, in a way. It was familiar to him to fight and give orders. He could see himself becoming friends with Thor, but he's not even on this planet at the moment, or Natasha, who he'd already been on a couple missions with for SHIELD. But, Agent Romanoff spent most of her time working for SHIELD, so he never saw her until they needed him for a mission, which wasn't often. He was all alone in a whole new century.

So, he took out all of his stress and problems on those punching bags.

Passing by a tall brick building, a paper sign in the window display caught his eye.

"Free Art Classes

Starts this Wednesday (15th) at 11:30am

Anyone is welcome

Sign up sheets are inside"

He gazed at the sign in curiosity. Steve had always loved to draw and make other pieces of art. He had drawn a few things whilst in the present, nothing he'd want anyone to see, but just for himself. Maybe doing something he loved more would help calm his anxiety.

He scanned the rest of the window display and saw a sign that said it was open so he walked inside.

The red brick walls were lined with all kinds of artwork. From intricate oil and acrylic paintings to detailed charcoal and pencil drawings. He admired the beautiful creations all around, feeling inspired from all of the different styles and techniques he saw.

There was an old woman at the front desk, scribbling something on the paper in front of her. She had a floral print blouse and librarian glasses with beads attached, going around her neck to keep from being lost. Steve stood in front of the desk, and eventually cleared his throat to get the woman's attention.

She smiled kindly. "And what can I do for you, young man?"

Steve grinned politely at her. "I saw the sign while I was walking by and I'm wondering if I could sign up for those art classes, if I'm not too late."

"Oh! Not at all," she exclaimed excitedly, getting out a clipboard and handing it to Steve. "Just fill out a few things here."

Steve took the clipboard and a pen from a brightly painted jar on the desk, thanking the woman before standing back to fill out the needed information like his full name, phone number, address, birthday, occupation, health issues, etc...

Once he was done, he clicked the pen and put it back in the jar. "Excuse me, is there anything else I need to do?"

She took the clipboard and held it in her arms. "No, sweetheart. You're all set. Just come in on Wednesday at 11:30am. After that, we meet here three times a week for a few months."

"Alright, I'll see you then. Thank you."

Steve was about to step out of the door before he heard the woman calling after him. He turned around to face her with his eyebrows raised.

"You put 1918 for your birth date, that must have been a mistake."

"Oh, no, Ma'am. It's not a mistake. I was born in 1918," he said, grinning sheepishly.

The woman glanced at the clipboard, scanning it through her glasses. She must have found something that made sense, because she made a little "O" with her mouth and nodded. She must have recognized his name or what he put for his occupation, which was a simple, "Agent".

"Have a good rest of your day," Steve said, and left the building to continue his way back to his apartment.

~~~~~~~

Hey guys! I really want this fanfiction to bring out Steve's character after he woke up, and to take a deep look into his interests in art, mostly drawing. I'm really sad we didn't get more of Steve's art capabilities in the MCU.

Anyway, Steve is my favorite character and I've wanted most of my works to be about him. I have tons of ideas, this particular one popped into my head one night and I just wrote a chapter right then and there.