It was quiet in Steve's apartment up until the was a knock at the door. Steve checked the time. 11:40 p.m. He got up slowly from where he sat at the kitchen table in the run-down apartment and went to answer the door. He looked through the eyehole, realizing it was the man from the hospital. He sighed to himself and undid the lock to open the door, kept his hand on the knob, and swung it part way to reveal his form, wearing socks, sweats and a t-shirt. His body stood between the door and the frame, making no room for the man.
"Can I help you, sir?"
"Mr. Rogers, how would you like to join the Academy?" The man dressed in all black asked, while suggesting a folder to Steve that read S.H.I.E.L.D. across the center.
"The Academy? I'm not really teaching anymore." Steve replied politely though sharp, after giving a short glance to the file, without the slightest consideration of the proposition.
"I'm sure I can change your mind about that." When Fury had said that, Steve's patience wore thin, already annoyed that his stance was not being considered.
"Really? Cause last time I taught, a man open fired in a classroom two doors down, killing both teachers and students. Friends. I got hit, I went under, and never got to say goodbye. How can you ask me to start teaching again?"
"I understand you may need some time to recuperate after your coma." Fury responded in an off-putting calmness to which Steve tried not to respond too sarcasticly.
"You think?"
"But I also understand that you can't let loss interfere with your career."
"Thank you, sir. We're done." Steve made a move to shut the door, but Fury intercepted, throwing his foot in before it closed. The ex-teacher frowned, knowing this man wouldn't give up so easily.
"Think about my offer Rogers, the world needs a teacher like you."
"Yeah, we'll see." Steve watched as Fury removed his foot, threw the file toward the coffee table with astute accuracy—it landed perfectly on the surface—having kept his eyes locked on the resident's. "I'll see you Monday."
"I never—" Steve began to say, but was too late. Fury was halfway down the hall and had made a sharp turn down the corridor. Steve was left stranded at his doorway, questioning the encounter he just had, and finally shut the door. He gave his back to the door and spotted the neat file on his coffee table, raised a brow and stared at it for a short while before giving in. He picked up the file and sat across his beaten couch, the one with a faded green color, and opened the folder. Marvel Academy. Best of the best. It read, Steve huffed a low chuckle but furrowed his brow together when he read the rest of the faculty members, this was the big league, and Fury wasn't kidding.
AN: Thanks for reading! If this catches interest, I may keep writing and increase chapter length. I'll have Ch. 2 up later today.