PAST LIVES | ❝Past lives couldn't ever hold me down, lost love is sweeter when it's finally found. I've got the strangest feeling. This isn't our first time around❞
POST: CIVIL WAR | STEVE ROGERS
BOOK TWO IN THE HERO OF HEROES SERIES
COVER BY: voidk...
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STEVE ROGERS SAT ON THE STEPS OF THE BUILDING, WATCHING AS THE BOYS PLAYED BASEBALL IN THE STREETS. HE WASN'T SURE OF THE RULES, BUT HE HAD A FEELING THAT MOST WEREN'T EITHER.They mostly shouted at each other and threw the ball, the batter always being careful not to hit it too far away, lest it crash into someone's window or into a car. Steve wasn't allowed to play with them, he shouldn't have even been outside. But he wanted to watch, so he went out.
He watched as the boy went up to bat. He didn't know the boy's name, but he had always loved watching him. He moved with a sense of pride, holding his head up high, his back straight. He seemed to swagger up to the makeshift plate as he took his position. He lazily hit the ball and started to run, laughing as the boys shouted, trying to get him out.
Steve watched in awe as he ran, his body swift and agile. He was so fast that he took the time to stop and mock the other boys, posing and making faces, before rushing off to another base, nowhere near getting out. He jogged towards home, finishing with a proud grin.
He sighed and motioned for the game to continue without him, making his way towards the sidewalk, grabbing one of the various soda bottles and taking a swig. Steve watched as he opened it with ease, taking a long sip.
The boy turned around, feeling someone was watching him, and caught sight of Steve. The latter immediately looked down at his feet, afraid of what would happen now that he was caught. He closed his eyes as a shadow fell over his small frame.
"You want a sip?"
○ ○ ○
Steve woke with a start, his alarm clock blaring. He reached over and turned it off before staring up at the ceiling, trying to chase the remnants of his dream. He couldn't remember any of it. He sighed and reached up to rub his face, stopping when he felt moistness on his cheeks.
He didn't remember crying. He wasn't surprised, though. There was a time when, more often than not, he would cry himself to sleep, plagued with memories and terrors, awake or asleep.
He sighed and reached over, picking up the phone that Sam had helped him get before he moved back to D.C. He raised an eyebrow when he found a flurry of notifications popping up on the small screen.
Two texts and a missed call from Sam, three texts from Tony, two texts from Wanda, and one text from Clint. He decided to tackle them all backwards, starting with Clint and ending with Sam, especially since he was going to have to call him back.
The text from Clint was standard, something that he had almost been expecting. Every few days or so, ever since they had come out of their more extensive hiding, Clint had offered Steve a place to stay at his farm. Wanda was staying there as well and if he ever needed to find someplace else, the farm was always open.
Steve sent his regular response of gratitude, but declined the offer, letting his former teammate know that he would keep it in mind.
The two from Wanda were regular check-ins on how he was doing, asking if he was still alright and if he was still safe and comfortable at his job. He smiled and let her know that, yes, he was doing alright and asked the same of her.
