"I'll be up there in the hour," Steve told Tony, stepping onto the subway.
"We'll see ya here then," The billionaire replied. "Don't let the creep follow you!"
"That's rude," Steve admonished, but silently agreed with him. He hung up and sat down in his usual seat.
For the past week and a half Steve had been under the eye of a woman. She sat a few seats from him on the subway every day and every day she stared at him. She had beautiful dark skin and soft looking black hair that was pulled back in a bun tightly. Steve guessed she was a business woman from her formal attire and the briefcase she carried. But he could see a bit more than that. He could see the light lines around her eyes and the twinkle in her hazel eyes, the laugh lines of her smile.
Still, as he sat down on the train, he felt a little uneasy as her head turned towards him and she stared. It was unnerving. Her head tilted just a bit as she studied him and he felt naked. He felt like a book being read-
And dear lord she had stood up and was walking over!
Steve prayed silently that she wasn't a stalker like Tony and the others would joke about.
She sat down in the empty seat next to him and said nothing, for once not looking at him. Steve fidgeted nervously, trying not to glance over at her.
"So…" she broke the silence slowly, quietly. "You're Steve Rogers?"
Steve startled and turned to her with wide eyes. She glanced at him and he finally saw the nervous glint in her eyes.
"I'm so sorry," she grimaced. "That was weird of me. I'm being rude."
She stuck her hand out to him. "I'm Jeanne."
He took her hand a bit shakily. "Steve Rogers ma'am, but how did you know that?"
"Pictures," she wet her lips and looked down shyly. "My grandpa had a picture of you on his bookcase. You saved his life."
Steve's heart clenched because he understood what she was saying.
"I don't expect you remember him," she looked up at him and smiled sadly. "He was among the men you saved from Hydra. He told me stories about you when I was growing up and my mom told me some of them after he passed away."
"I'm sorry to hear he passed away," Steve whispered.
"He lived a long life sir, thanks to you," Her smile grew bigger. "You inspired him, he had a lot of great adventures and died with a smile."
"That's good," Steve smiled back. "All the men at that base were good men, I'm proud to have served along side them for the time that I did."
Jeanne reached down into her briefcase and Steve caught sight of a baby rattle buried under papers. For some reason tears dampened his eyes, but he did not let them fall. She straightened back up and handed an old worn envelope to him. There was a shake in her voice as she spoke again.
"I'm sorry about all the staring at you this week, I just wasn't sure it was you. It's a miracle that it really is you after all."
Steve looked at the name on the envelope but didn't recognize it. "What is this?"
"My grandpa wrote you a letter after your crash. He said all the men wrote one. I'm sure there are many people out there with letters just like it, wishing they could give them to you." Her words caught for a second and he watched as she carefully wiped away a few tears. The intercom announced they were approaching her stop. "I'm really happy I could hand that off finally. I really, really am."
The doors opened and she turned back to him one last time before stepping off. "Thank you for saving my grandpa sir."
Steve rode the rest of the train ride in dumbfounded silence. When his stop arrived he quickly exited and took off at a run the moment he was above ground. He greeted the door man of the Avenger's tower automatically and tapped his foot impatiently on the elevator ride up. It was a fast ride, but for some reason Steve was impatient. He burst into the main pent-house floor loudly, startling the others who were there.
"Steve?" Pepper asked almost immediately with a concerned voice. The panicked look on his face sent everyone into a worry.
"Don't tell me she actually tried to follow you?" Tony asked in good nature, but his hand was poised to call security.
"She- She uh-" Steve choked falling onto a couch. Clint and Bruce were flashing him confused looks.
"What did she do?" Tony asked.
"She gave me a letter."
"What?" Everyone but Natasha asked.
Steve held up the letter, letting the name sink into his mind. He honestly couldn't remember who it could have been. The others came a bit closer as he carefully broke the seal and pulled out the letter. It was written on very old journal paper, ripped out of a soldiers book by the look of it. The ink was a bit smudged, but the writing was clear none the less.
To Captain S. Rogers
Thank you. My gratitude to you cannot be expressed correctly in words. You saved my life and gave us men hope at a time we thought all might be lost. You treated us with equality and brought us together in a world full of inequality.
But my life is small compared to what you have done for my family.
I have a little baby girl at home, just born four months ago.
You have saved her daddy, and for that is what I am truly grateful for. I had believed it was the end and that my little baby would grow up without me. I cried because I thought of all the birthdays and school days and wedding, all the great things she would do that I would miss. I cried for my wife's broken heart and parent's grief. I have never been so thankful to a man in my entire life.
Thank you Captain Rogers for saving my baby girl's daddy.
With gratitude and loss- signed Staff Sergeant Jason Aberton
The tears fell. They fell down Steve's cheeks uninhibited as he read the letter. He then read it out loud, and not a sound came from the others. This was the heart of a man poured onto paper, thankful for his life, but more importantly, thankful for the lives of others. Steve could not place a face to the name, and it saddened him. Steve thought back to the rattle in Jeanne's bag and realized why it had affected him so much.
It was proof of a life that might not have happened. It was proof that Steve had done right, and despite the personal consequences of all his actions, he was happy to see that others were happy. It was enough to know that someone who, at the time of the war, had lost all hope was able to reach the happy future they deserved. The one that Steve would most likely never have.
But this man's letter inspired him. To try and continue reaching for that future.
