You and What Army?
Author's Note: Any ages/dates, etc. are approximate, loosely based on the movie timelines. In the comics he was born in 1925, if you go by the Wiki movie info, he was born in 1918. This is just what my research came up with, apologies for any mistakes. Also, in the 'Better Days' stories after this one, Steve's parents are already gone, as is Bucky's father. For the sake of these stories, he still has a mother, a sister named Rebecca, and two younger siblings. In addition, Steve's ruminations about religion in this story are based on the same rambling thoughts I had as a kid.
Disclaimer: I own nothing except my constantly wandering imagination.
Brooklyn, New York City - September, 1927
It was with no small amount of indignation that Steve left the building where he and his mother lived late that Sunday morning.
His mother was sick - she'd been getting sick a lot ever since she'd become a nurse - but she'd gotten him up and made him oil his hair, and wear his cheap new monkey suit to go to church. He'd wanted to stay home and take care of her, but she was insistent; he had to go represent the family at church.
Steve picked up a fallen branch and idly tapped it on the ground as he walked. He thought it was funny how she acted like they wouldn't ever be allowed to go to church again if they missed a Sunday or Wednesday night sermon. He was only ten years old, but he figured if God was such a great guy, he wouldn't really care so much if you couldn't make it to his house every week. Why couldn't he hear your prayers just as well at home? And what about people who had to travel a lot? He'd even bet his pop would have prayed wherever he'd been stuck on the battlefield, but then, he had still died -
"Hey, give that back!"
Steve looked up, tossing the limb aside, and saw a small crowd of kids ahead. There were about four or five, some of them he recognized from the tenements, a couple he didn't know. There was one kid, a little older, a little taller than the rest of them, that Steve definitely recognized. It was Colt Miller, and whatever was going on if that kid was around, it was bad news. He was always taking stuff that didn't belong to him and hitting smaller kids.
Steve hung back a little, torn between taking an alley to another street he could get to church on, and a sense of moral outrage when he saw Colt and a couple other guys holding a yowling gray kitten over a little girl's head. She didn't look at all familiar, and he vaguely recalled something about his mother saying some new folks had moved in nearby from out of state, and wondered if she belonged to them.
At any rate, she couldn't be more than five, had a clean but faded cotton dress on under a slightly too large boy's blue jumper, and dark, curly hair. Every time she hollered and jumped, they laughed.
Steve found himself getting more angry than scared. Colt Miller was twelve, but he was still in fourth grade. He'd been teased a lot for being a little slow, and now he was growing, he'd become the school bully. Steve had tried to feel sorry for the guy, but being so small, and the smartest in his class, he had been the unfortunate recipient of several beatings from the other kid. It was hard to feel sorry for a person that took so much joy in drawing your blood, and this, today...Steve had never seen him go after a girl before, especially one who was practically a baby.
"Give her back, or you'll be sorry!" the dark-haired little girl trilled breathlessly between jumps. "I'll scream, I'll scream, and if I do, you're gonna' be in trouble! I'll get you!"
Steve frowned as Colt and his buddies laughed, and Colt, finally getting tired of the girl relentlessly kicking his shins, put a grubby hand on her forehead and pushed her down, hard.
"Yeah, you and what army, Baby?"
The girl's face turned beet red, and she sat up and grabbed the bully's free hand, and sank her tiny sharp white teeth into it.
Colt roared and yanked his hand back, shaking it. "You little brat!"
Steve couldn't help but grin. 'Watch out, Miller, she's a biter!'
"M'not a brat, and I'm not a baby, I'm Becca! You're the baby!"
Colt saw blood raising from the deep bite marks and showed his teeth, which were already turning brown from using chewing tobacco.
"You're gonna' get it for that," the bully hissed, carelessly tossing the kitten to another boy and grabbing the girl by her curls.
The little girl, Becca, squealed, but from rage, not fear, and tried to yank away.
Steve clenched his fists and walked forward before he could stop himself. "Hey, leave the kid alone, Miller. You know you were asking for it, so why don't you just let her go?"
Colt glanced over at Steve, his beady brown eyes spaced a little too close together, and curled his lip as he looked the other boy up and down.
"Rogers, what the hell you wearin? That cat's hacked up hairballs better lookin' than that getup."
Steve felt his cheeks burn in embarrassment as the other boys gathered around snickered and laughed. 'Darn monkey suit…'
Steve swallowed, and shifted restlessly, knowing he was no match but also refusing to run away. The girl could really get hurt if Colt was in a mood. He knew angry and stupid were a bad combination. The fact that she was so tenacious about fighting back didn't help, either. It was often why he, himself got the snot kicked out of him.
Steve licked his lips nervously. His ma' was going to kill him if he messed up the suit, but… "C'mon, Miller, the kid…?"
Colt took a step towards him, his friends following, and Steve knew this was the girl's chance to run - but then Becca chose that moment to try and stomp on the bully's foot, instead.
Angry and annoyed, Colt gave the little girl's head a violent yank back and threw her down again. She skidded hard, scraping up her hands and knees, and gave a sobbing hiccup when she finally caught her breath.
"Hey, that's enough!" Steve shouted, darting forward in alarm. He stepped in between them and felt a lurch in his chest when the girl behind him began to cry. "You crazy? She's just a baby!"
"M'not a baby!" the little girl protested through her tears, although not as violently as before.
When Steve looked back at her, the other kid not holding the kitten took advantage and pushed him over with a sneer. When he was on the ground, Colt knelt over him and punched him in the face.
Steve was pretty certain his nose was busted, with the way lights exploded behind his eyes, and the painful, wet crunching noise. Blood immediately seeped down his upper lip, and he had the stray thought that maybe it would ruin the stupid suit so he'd never have to wear it again. He rolled over onto his elbows, groaning. The little girl was still crying, and to be truthful, it kinda' made him want to cry, too.
"Y-you're stupid!" Becca yelled, throwing a handful of gritty dirt at the bullies.
"Ha! You got kindergartener's backin' you up these days, Rogers?" Colt snorted, kicking dirt on Steve in return.
Becca stood up and shrieked at Colt, her voice quavering. "You! Y-you're stupid and ugly, and I bet your mama hates you!"
Steve groaned again. He buried his head in his arm for a second, wincing and wishing Becca would wise-up and be quiet. Everybody knew Colt's mother had run off with another guy a few years back, and it was most definitely a sore point. Nobody ever brought up his ma.
"Shut up!" Colt snarled, purple-faced, drawing back his foot to harshly kick the little girl. Steve instinctively rolled over, and pushed himself between them, the heavy kick landing in his ribs. He felt and heard something pop, and couldn't help but let out an agonized shout as he hit the ground and curled up around the burning pain in his side.
All the kids around them gasped at the noise. Another girl screeched dramatically, and a different one whispered loudly, "Ohmigod, he's gonna' die!"
Colt looked around suddenly, realizing he'd gone too far this time.
Steve turned his head and looked at Becca through watery eyes. "Run away!" he huffed at the little girl, who stood over him, staring at the blood still running from his nose and lip.
Instead of running like he'd told her to, the tiny brunette looked mutinous, her little round cheeks pink with temper, her bright blue eyes narrowing with menace.
Steve wasn't sure because he was in too much pain, but the tot actually looked a little...terrifying in that instant.
"Tha's it! You guys asked for it!" Bessie warned, and then threw her head back and screamed so loud it made Steve's head hurt above all the other pain. That was when he blacked out.
"Man, ain't that new kid somethin'!"
"Yeah, I ain't never seen Colt Miller cry before!"
"I can't wait 'till school tomorrow - everybody's gonna' know, but we got to see it!"
"I think he's kinda' cute, don't you Alice?"
Steve slowly came to on his back with the world moving in a dizzy haze around him, and his mother's concerned face leaning over him.
"Ma'...?" he asked uncertainly past the the taste of copper and dirt in his mouth.
"I'm here, Stevie, don't move. I'm taping up your rib - hold your breath for me, kiddo."
Steve did as she asked, but felt tears spring to eyes at the unfamiliar sharp pain. A pair of patched denim legs moved in his field of vision, and he looked up, trying to focus, until the person got down on their knees beside him, opposite his mother. A kid around twelve, maybe a little older, because he looked so husky and tall, looked down at him with with a grin. He had a busted lip, and a grazed, puffy-looking cheek, but he was still smiling, deep blue eyes shining under a messy flop of dark brown hair.
Another movement next to him made Steve glance over, and he saw little Becca sitting next to the boy, cradling her kitten in her skirt, and wiping her dirty nose on the sleeve of her jumper.
"Did I do right, Bucky?" she asked, for the first time looking unsure.
"Yeah, you did right, Becca, just like I told ya'. Yell and I'll come runnin', kid. Big brothers gotta' watch out for their baby sisters," the boy said, rustling her curls.
"For my sake, please don't call her a baby," Steve muttered on a rough exhalation.
The boy laughed and patted Becca again. "See, kid, he knows ya' already!"
"We're going to sit you up, slowly, okay Stevie?" his mother said around a sneeze.
Steve thought she looked almost as bad as he felt. He grabbed his ma's hand, and the boy grabbed his other and gave it a friendly shake before helping to pull him to a sitting position.
Steve had to breathe shallowly, and assured his mother he was okay for a minute while she checked on Becca and carefully bandaged her tiny knees. Becca looked content to stroke her kitten now, barely even wincing as his mother disinfected her scrapes.
"Hey, thanks for lookin' out for my sister," the boy distracted him by saying. "I'm Bucky. Bucky Barnes."
Steve lifted his head wearily. "Steve...Rogers."
Bucky nodded. "I know, your ma' told me. She said you got a broke rib. Lucky she's a nurse huh?"
"Comes in handy - unfortunately," Steve agreed.
Bucky went quiet for a moment, then caught Steve eyeing him questioningly.
"How old are you, kid?"
Steve rolled his swelling eyes. "Ten. I know, I look younger. I'm just - small for my age."
Bucky snorted. "That overgrown punk just handed you your ass, and you're awake and moving around. I don't think your age or height had anything to do with it. You're pretty damn tough."
Steve smiled a little. "How old are you?"
Bucky scratched his head. "Eleven, why?"
Steve's smile fell. "You're only eleven?"
"I'm just...tall for my age?" Bucky offered lamely.
"Yeah, that doesn't make me feel any better." Steve accepted his help to stand up, and prided himself on not making any of the pained noises he wanted to.
"So what happened? You take on Miller?"
"That his name? Yeah, him and his drooling goons. Sorry I didn't get here sooner - I was in the cellar unpacking stuff for my ma and didn't hear anything until Becca screamed."
"Yeah, I think my ears are gonna' be ringing for a while just from that. To think, you gotta' live with her."
Bucky laughed. "It's not that bad - you'll learn how to deal with her."
Steve pressed a hand to his side and stared at him. "Uh…"
"Sorry, she's going to follow you everywhere, you know. She says you're 'her second favorite hero'. But I'll be around to handle her. It's the least I can do."
Steve shook his head. "I dunno' if my ribs can handle anymore of that kid."
"She does get in trouble - a lot."
"So do I," Steve admitted. "Not that I mean to."
Bucky sighed. "Gonna' have my hands full, here. I need to show you a couple things about defendin' yourself - when you're all better."
"You think you could?" Steve actually felt a little hopeful.
"Sure, why not?"
"No one's ever thought much of me, except my Ma'. I...I don't have many friends." Any friends.
Bucky put a hand on his shoulder and began helping walk, following Steve's mother and Becca back towards their buildings.
"Well, ya' got a new one right here, buddy. Anybody who'd take a beatin' for a kid you don't even know the way you did today? I'd be proud to count you as a friend. Hey, maybe you can even be my sidekick. We'll look out for each other, okay? Just watch, one day I bet you'll be a legend around here."