ＳＬＡＴＥ ◼ STEVE ROGERS◼

ＯＮＥ

Steve Rogers sighed, wincing at the pain that occurred in his right cheek. He didn't need to look in a mirror to know that the skin of his cheek was surely a dark blue and purple color. He knew just by the feeling that this bruise was one that wouldn't go away easily.

Back against the wall of the alley, the small young man awaited the arrival of his two best friends, who had gone to find something to place against his cheek and ease the swelling.

He hated feeling like this, like some helpless young man. The older, much bigger man he had just fought with had badmouthed his best friend, making obscene comments dealing with her body that angered Steve. He would never stand by and allow her to be harassed in such a way, even when it ended with him bruised and lying against a brick wall.

"There's the little hero who never knows when to stop,"

Steve had to contain his eyeroll, locking eyes with Bucky Barnes as he came strolling into the alley with a smirk on his face. Steve's cheeks burned red as his eyes trailed to the worried young woman right behind him.

Charlotte, Lottie to her friends, Watson was giving Steve the smallest, kindest smile he had ever seen. She clutched the ice pack in her hand, crouching down in front of her friend and placing the pack against his cheek. Steve winced, but couldn't keep his eyes off his his best friend who he was hopelessly in love with.

"Steve doesn't need to stop," Lottie remarked, glancing back at Bucky before looking back to Steve's bruised face. "He needs to push himself. He's the only one with the courage to stand up to these entitled men. I don't see you going out and standing up to them, Buck."

"I'm helping by heading by the recruitment center tomorrow and getting my orders,"

Lottie smiled down at Steve, holding out her hand for him to take. Steve's blush deepened as Bucky tried his best not to laugh at how hopeless Steve was with women, even his own best friend. Steve allowed Lottie to help him to his feet, grinning over at him before they both looked to Bucky.

"I should be going with you," Steve mumbled, unable to look at either of his friends. Lottie rubbed his arm comfortingly, trying to console him.

Bucky clamped a hand down on his shoulder, grinning down at him.

"Don't beat yourself up, Steve. It's all going to work out," Bucky began to back away, smiling at his two best friends. "I gotta get home, mom wants a family dinner tonight. You two good?"

Steve and Lottie nodded to him as Bucky began to back out of the alley with a wave.

"Say hi to Rebecca for me!"

Steve laughed from beside his best friend, Bucky laughing in the distance as well. He threw out another wave before he disappeared once more.

With Lottie and Steve alone, the girl turned towards her best friend with a bright smile. Steve swallowed the lump in his throat, smiling back at her and trying to keep himself calm.

Lottie's hand came up, lightly grazing Steve's cheek. She frowned at the sight of the bruise, seeing the colors deepening. She grabbed onto Steve's hand, unaware of his blush as she ran her fingers over his bloody and cut up knuckles.

"You're coming to mine," Lottie told him softly, wrapping her hands around Steve's upper arm and dragging him from the alley. "We need to get you patched up."

Steve couldn't even protest, his words caught in his throat as he looked at her. Thankfully for him, he didn't want to protest.

➖  ➖  ➖

Lottie opened the door to her small apartment quietly, hoping to not wake her mother who was surely passed out from her over consumption of alcohol. She motioned Steve over to the living room couch, shutting the door and making her way down the hallway.

Her mother's bedroom door was propped open, and Lottie dared to take a peak inside.

Dorothy Watson was passed out on the bed, empty glass bottles lying on the floor. Lottie sighed at the sight, shaking her head. Her heart began to break as she examined her mother, noticing the familiar shirt that belonged to her late father clutched in her arms.

Lottie shook her head, shutting the door quietly and walking away as she wiped away the tears that began to fall from her eyes. She refused to cry. There were no more tears left for her father, and she wouldn't cry for the drunken mess she called a mother.

She entered the small wash room, grabbing the familiar large first aid kit from the room. Her mother hadn't touched it since being fired from her job at the hospital months before.

Lottie carried it into the room, silently sitting beside Steve as she opened the case. Steve was quiet, observing the loud and bubbly best friend of his who had gone quiet. Every time they entered her home she turned into a different person.

"Is it getting worse?"

Lottie tried to ignore Steve's question, taking his hands in her own and beginning to dab alcohol onto the small cuts along his knuckles. Steve hissed, trying to keep his voice low as to not wake her mother. It wouldn't end well for anymore if she was woken up.

"I know it hasn't been long, but she has to accept that he's gone," Lottie mumbled, keeping her eyes trained on Steve's hands, while the boy's eyes were watching her face carefully. "She was fine at first, and then she slowly lost control. Ever since she got fired from the hospital she's been a mess. I don't think she remembers anything anymore."

"Do you blame your father?"

"I blame the war," Lottie mumbled, finally looking up at Steve. Steve's breath hitched once again, and he tried to smother it with a small cough. Lottie bit her lip, looking at her best friend. "He was serving his country, doing what any good man would do for the one's he loves. War took him from us, but I will never hate him for doing what needed to be done."

Lottie focused again on Steve's knuckles, and Steve watched her hands work. She was careful and precise, and Steve smiled every time she ran her fingers over the top of his hands. He loved the feeling of having her close, and having her touch. He had no clue how to talk to a woman, but Lottie never seemed to care. She loved him, Steve knew that much, he just wished it was in the same way that he loved her, too.

Steve's thoughts were broken as he felt Lottie's hands shake. He looked up at her, concern etched on his face.

Lottie's delicate hands grasped onto Steve's as she looked up at him. Green eyes met with blue, and the young woman took in a shaky breath.

"I know you want to join the war, do what you think is right," Lottie began, staring her best friend intently in the eyes. "I know James is going, and I know that one day you're going to make it there too and you're going to fight for this country. Screw your illnesses, I know it will happen... but I can't tell you how much it scares me to know that I could lose the two most important people to me in the same war that took my father."

Steve's nerves were forgotten as he grasped onto Lottie's hands tighter. He hated seeing her in pain like this. She rarely ever showed this vulnerable side of herself, and it pained Steve and Bucky every time they had to see it.

"I need you to promise me that no matter what happens and where we all end up, that you will stay you. That you will push yourself, that you will never settle for what someone else tells you is right. That you will live boldly, Steve. I need you to promise me that you will always be you, and that you'll always find your way back to me. Live boldly, that was the last thing my father ever told me, and it's what I'm telling you and what I'm going to tell Bucky because I need you both to hear it and to live by it."

Lottie lost herself, sobbing as she fell into Steve. The smaller man was startled for a moment, before holding her close and letting her cry.

"I promise,"