Captain America as Hercules (Stevexreader)

Chapter 4

Seventeen years later...

"Steve! Slow down!" Joseph hung on to the sides of his barley cart as it rumbled rapidly towards the marketplace. Joseph was now a white-haired old man. His donkey Penelope sat beside him in the cart, as her leg was bandaged. Pulling the cart instead was a handsome but awkward teenager-his adopted son Steve. The boy had grown up in an ordinary family. But though he was mortal, he was far from ordinary. Because he did not drink that very last drop of Loki's potion, he'd lost all his powers but one; his great strength. Steve ran beneath the arch that led to the marketplace, but the cart struck the two columns and nearly knocked them down.

"Watch where your going!" a workman yelled from the top.

"Ooops! Sorry." Steve stopped in front of a shop.

"Thanks son." Joseph said as he climbed down from the cart. "Now, Steve, this time please just..."

"I know, I know, dad. Stay by the cart."

"That's my boy." Joseph hurried off. But Steve was restless. The marketplace was filled with the sights, sounds and smells of adventure. There was so much to see and do. It was boring just to stand around. Across the way he saw the potter struggling to place a large and heavy vase on a high shelf.

"Here, let me help you with that," Steve offered.

The mans eyes flew open "No-no! I've got it! I'm fine. Y-you just run along."

"You sure?" Steve asked unsure.

"Oh yes! Absolutely. Go on now, thanks."

Steve shrugged and wandered down the street.

Whoosh! A discus landed at his feet, and Steve brightened up. He glanced up at some boys, about the same age as him, staring at him from down the street.

"Hay, you guys need an extra guy?" he asked hopefully. The boys glanced nervously at one another. Nobody wanted to play with Steve as it was too dangerous. Beside, they thought he was weird.

"Uh, sorry Steve." said one boy. "We've already got five, and we want to keep it an even number."

"But..."

"What a geek!" another boy sniggered. The boys left making cruel jokes about him. Steve heard their cruel remarks and his shoulders sagged.

A few minutes later he heard one of the boys shout "Heads up!"

The discus was heading his way again. Maybe he could show them how well he could catch... "I've got it!" he cried.

"No" the boy shouted. "Stop!"

Using the strength of his powerful legs, Steve leaped into the air and caught the discus, but he had not control. Coming down he smashed into a giant stone pillar just as Joseph stepped out on to the street.

"Watch out!" Steve hollered. People dived for cover as one column struck another, which then hit another... Like giant dominoes, the columns tumbled down until the entire colonnade collapsed. Animals left their broken pens. Jugs and jars smashed to the ground. Fresh food and other goods fell to the ground. Steve rushed to help, but slipped in a puddle of spilled olive oil. With a yelp, he slid smack in to the potters shelves of fragile pottery. When the dust settled, Steve stood in the middle of it all. Blushing, he reached down and picked up the discus. A boy snatched it from his hands.

"Nice catch." He said sarcastically. Steve stared at the ground.

"THIS IS THE LAST STRAW!" the potter shouted.

"That boy is a menace!" a woman called out.

"He's too dangerous to be around normal people!" another person complained.

Joseph held up his hands. "He didn't mean any harm. He's just a boy, He just can't control his strength."

"I am warning you," the potter said angrily as he picked up his broken vase. "You keep that-that freak away from here!"

The crowd began to shout and cry. "Freak!"

"Go away!"

It took all of Steve's strength to hold back the tears.

Joseph steered his son towards their cart. "Come on son. Let's go home"

That evening Joseph sat with Steve on the hillside of their olive grove, watching the sun dip low in the sky.

"Son, you shouldn't let those things they said back there get to you."

"But dad they're right," Steve said "I am a freak! I'm not like other people." Idly he picked a thick olive branch and broke it in two. It snapped like a toothpick. "I try to fit in. I really do. I just can't!" Steve stared out across the valley. How could he explain? "Sometimes I feel like... like I really don't belong here. Like I'm supposed to be somewhere else. Like I..."

"Son..."

"I know it doesn't make any sense." Steve stood up and strode away from his father. He didn't know where he was going, but he needed to take a walk. He need to be alone. Wisely, his father let him go.

Steve dreamed of a far-off place where he wouldn't be a freak. Where crowds would cheer when they saw him, instead of running in the opposite direction. Sometimes he felt like hitting the road to search for that place. He'd go the distance, walk every mile without complaining. He'd go almost anywhere to feel that he belonged. Steve searched the sky as if he might find the answer somewhere among the clouds. But all it told him was that the sun was setting, and there were still jobs to be done back at the farm. With a sigh, Steve turned around and walked back home.

His mother and farther stood in the door way, waiting for him with strange looks on their faces.

"Steve," his father began. "There's something your mother and I have been meaning to tell you..."