Bucky Barnes / Steve Rogers Imagines

Escape (Pre-Serum Steve)

You had to get out of Europe, you had to, it was a matter of your life, but you had no idea where to go. That was until you remembered your great-great-grandmother had left an apartment behind when she died in America. No one in the family wanted anything to do with it, no one understood why she moved to America after her husband died. Maybe you understood now. You were rich, while so many were trying to run out of Europe and failing, you had no problem. It was terrible and you agreed that money bought you way out, that and finding the right people who would bend rules for that money.

You first ran to England and then on a boat across the sea. Though you were rich you stayed in a shared middle class room to hopefully avoid suspicions. You took very little with you hoping you would figure it out once you got to America.

After about a little less than a week you stepped out onto the soil of America, and breathed a sigh of relief. You were out, you were safe. You made the trek to your new apartment, it had been abandoned for years, no one in your family had wanted anything to do with it. All the better place to hide, no one would think you came here. You walked through the door, shocked at how rundown the apartment was. The walls were cracked plaster strewn across the floor, water had stained the floors and walls, the windows were shattered. It was going to need a lot of cleaning and a lot of work. But it was better than the fate awaiting you in Europe.

The next day you were trudging up the stairs with groceries and cleaning supplies overflowing your arms. You kept losing items but there had been no doorman to assist when you came back and no one at the desk in the lobby. From the amount of dust in the lobby you didn't think anyone had worked there in a long, long time. You guessed the building had been spectacular when it had been built and in a desired area area when your great-great-grandmother had purchased her apartment, but everything seemed run down now.

That is when you met a man in the stairwell, he was scrawny, but that didn't stop him from asking if you needed help. You smiled at him and advised you could handle it, but when you dropped a broom he picked it up and followed you upstairs. He stood outside the door of your apartment when you entered, waiting for you to come back and retrieve said broom. 

"Thank you." You said, you had never met a man who was this polite, at least not the ones you had been around. They mostly wanted to use you for connections to your father, and your father only used you for his own connections. "My name is Y/N," you stated as you nodded your head at him smiling. 

"Steve," he hesitated a moment, clearly not wanting to leave quite yet. "I've never seen anyone live up in this penthouse before. It looks in pretty rough shape"

"This is a penthouse?" you stated back at Steve a moment before sighing, "It was my great-great-grandmother's she had left it to my family but no one had wanted it, it's been empty a long time." You didn't know why you were telling him all this but for some reason he made you feel at ease. "But it's heaven to me compared to home."

"Where was that, home that is? I could hear your accent but a lot of people have them in New York"

You hesitated a moment not knowing if you should divulge this information. "Germany," you looked away from him.

Steve perked up, "Oh I've been trying to get over there but the Army hasn't accepted me yet."

"Oh, please don't. It's much better here," you pleaded with him. This scrawny kid in front of you wouldn't last a minute in a war.

Steve changed the subject, he had had enough of people trying to tell him not to go. "Do you need help cleaning this place up?"

"That's OK. I need a project to work on. But I only just arrived yesterday, maybe you could help show me around so I don't get lost?"