He's been sitting at the bar all night.
The pancakes in front of him are untouched, although he's been nursing that beer for several hours now. It looks like he has no intention of moving, and it's getting close to closing time.
Beth, the waitress, is getting nervous.
"Um, sir... We're just about closing." She smiles, careful not to show the buckteeth of which she's so ashamed.
He looks up from the tabletop for the first time and meets her eyes. Oh.
"Oh my God, you're Captain America."
No. Way. Not in this diner, not sitting in front of her in a leather bomber jacket and jeans. He's...
He smiles weakly. "Steve, please."
"You're amazing! You- you saved my life!"
"I saved a lot of people."
"I know! But you were there, when we were cornered by those aliens, and..." She slides into the seat beside him without thinking. "You're my hero."
Steve Rogers takes another swig of his beer. "There's a lot of heroes out there these days."
They sit in silence for a moment. Beth isn't sure what she wants to say – she wants to talk to him and let him know what he means to her, but without sounding like a rabid fangirl. He also looks kind of fragile right now, which sounds crazy, since he's Captain Freaking America. But he's drunk and alone, too. Should she comfort him?
"You led them all into battle, didn't you? And you saved the world."
"Twice."
"Twice?"
Beth can't help it. She knows he's supposed to be just another customer, and they're closing soon, and besides, he probably gets fangirls like this every day, but... She wants to thank him. She wants to meet him. And here, sitting at this diner, he's a regular guy. Not a hero. She can't believe it.
He raises an eyebrow. "I was born in 1920, did you know that?"
What? He doesn't look 92. How can...?
"I fought in World War II," he continues. "And I killed the Red Skull."
"Oh- oh, I've heard of him. But how..."
"How am I still in my twenties? Frozen in ice for seventy years."
That's enough to send her overboard. He's not just a regular guy. Not just a regular hero. He's... She'd heard rumors about the 1940s hero, but... Captain America is one messed up guy. Beth puts her head in her hands, resting on the table, trying to get her mind wrapped around this.
"God, this must be so weird."
"Yeah. They didn't have beer bottles in 1940." He turns over the bottle in his hands. "Or computers. Or aliens. Or Stark Industries. Well, they had that. Howard Stark was my friend. But they didn't have Iron Men and Hulks and Asgardian gods. A lot has changed."
"And you still saved the world. Again. How long have you been, you know, here?"
"Just under a year. I'm getting used to it, though." He smiles up at her, and she can't help but think he's really attractive. Not just a hero, but a perfect one.
No, not perfect. She's talking to him now, she knows that. He's struggling. He wouldn't be here all night, getting drunk, if he was perfect.
"The girls are prettier in the twenty-first century," he jokes. "Want some pancake?"
"No. It's disgusting here, don't eat it."
"Can't you get fired for saying that?"
"Maybe in 1940. Nobody cares in 2012."
Steve just lays his head on the table.
No. That wasn't the right thing to say. "I'm sorry, that was rude. I just... I've never met someone like you."
"I can't get drunk," he remarks.
"What?"
"It's part of my metabolism. I'm who I am because of a serum, and because of it, I can't get drunk."
"That sucks. So why are you trying?"
Without lifting his head, he says one word. "Peggy."
"Who?"
"Peggy Carter. I was in love with her."
It takes a moment to sink in. "Oh, Jesus. And now she's..."
"Dead. Yeah."
"I'm sorry."
"It's hard."
"But, maybe... maybe you could find someone here?"
"Not like her."
Of course. Silly of her, thinking just because she had one decent conversation with the man who saved her life, now he's going to ask her out. She'll never find a guy, not one like him.
"Thank you. For saving me."
"I wasn't just doing it for you."
"I know. But I still remember. I remember when you had four aliens attacking you, unmasking you, throwing you around. And you stayed cool. You handled the grenade perfectly. You saved us all. You fight for your country, even if it's not the same one you were born in."
She can't believe she's giving him a pep talk. Captain America, the saviour of her city and her country and her world. Sitting here, drunk and alone. And she's the one comforting him.
"I'm just one guy," he whispers.
There's nothing to say to that. Nothing at all.
She's never had this deep a conversation with a stranger at the diner. But somehow, he doesn't feel like a stranger. She understands him. She's alone, and so is he. He needs her help, now.
But then she just completely botches it.
"Do you want another beer? Or the bill..."
"Nah, it's all right, I should get out of here so you can close up shop." He stands up and slams a handful of bills on the table. "Keep the change."
"Captain- I'm sorry, you-"
And then Captain America – no, Steve – walks out the door, hands shoved in pockets, and out alone into the night.