"Do you know what it's like to be scared?" the boy, who couldn't have been more than eighteen, paced across the concrete floor, footsteps echoing out into the vast emptiness of… wherever they were. He rubbed his hands together nervously, occasionally sifting them through his stringy mop of auburn hair. He was lean, scrawny and pale, his face gaunt, features sharp. "And I'm talking like absolutely, one hundred percent terrified. Like, you don't think you're going to survive. You think your… you think that your life is over. Everything you've ever done flashes before your eyes and… worst of all, you feel like you'll never be able to do the things you haven't done. Like you future went up in smoke. Do you know what that's like, Captain?"
Captain America twisted his wrists as they chaffed beneath the zip ties that bound him to the rickety old chair. He probably could have escaped- the zip ties were frail and so was the boy. He couldn't feel any drugs in his system, and if there had been, his immune system should have flushed it out. So, he could've escaped, beaten the boy and taken him to the police. But there was something about the boy's demeanor. He wasn't a threat, he wasn't acting because he needed vengeance or because anger swelled in him. He was scared. He wanted answers. "I have," Cap spoke through dried lips, his voice creaking like the floorboards of a derelict house.
"Why?" the boy swallowed hard, his Adam's apple bulging outward for a moment. He rolled his shoulders as if to adjust the baggy shirt that rested precariously on his back. "I mean… was there a reason? Was it one of those times you were out there trying to save the world? Were you… fighting for something?"
"I… yes. Son, can I ask you why you have me tied up here. I promise, if you just let me go and talk this out rationally-"
"NO!" It was like the roar of a lion ripping from the throat of a mouse. But after a moment, the rage died down and the boy shrunk back, hands clenching and unclenching rapidly. "The… the time for talking rationally is over. That… that time has past. You… you could've helped. You could've been there, done something. Been rational."
"Son…"
"I know this is wrong," a single tear fled from the boy's eye as he quivered. "I… you're a hero. This country's hero. You… you're supposed to stand for everything this country believes in but… I feel… lost. My parents always taught me to love this country. They… they were immigrants from Italy. Set up a little shop, selling… you know, touristy stuff, postcards and all that. We've had a good life. They always told me to love this country because it's given us so… so much. And it still does, I think. My mom, my dad, they still have that little shop. It's doing great. We live in a nice neighborhood, me and my brothers go to a nice school."
"What are you trying to say-"
"I don't know," the boy stopped pacing, looming over Cap instead. "I don't… I don't know, but I… last week, a kid… brought a gun into school. He… he held it out, said he was gonna kill somebody… said he was gonna kill everybody. He didn't, thank God, but… he was just some… eighteen year old kid and… he got a gun? Maybe it wasn't in New York, but there are other places that… that care less. Seem to, anyway. They… they just want the money. The owners and the politicians and… and they all just want the damn money. And then I… then I look out to the world and… I don't know why I did this, Cap. I really don't. I… I saw you out there with the Avengers, you were out cold and so I… you're supposed to be the… the embodiment of America, or something like that, right? So… can you tell me why this is going on? All the… the hate. The anger. Why… why do I get to live the… the American Dream, but so many others are… are living in a nightmare? What happened to the Dream, Captain?"
Silence cut through the room like a steely blade. Cap sat there, his mind racing and yet finding nothing to say. He didn't want to think of America as something corruptible, as something that would ever really need saving. But in the end, it was vulnerable. And the democracy that held it up would be drown in the bile of greed, innocents washed away and stepped on by those who cared so very little, who could only see the world through a keyhole of hate. As the deafening quiet reached a crescendo, Cap spoke with a brittle tongue and weary words. "I don't know."
The boy's shoulders dropped, his eyes downcast and his lip trembling as if struck by an earthquake. He opened his mouth as if trying to say something, but instead collapsed onto the floor, a sniveling ball of tears and of fear.
"But know this," Cap spoke with as much dignity and hope as he could muster. "We are not these mistakes. There will always be those who take advantage of the weak, who fear those who are different. But I was given my ability to stop those people, because America is built on the belief that they are wrong. We pretend to be the greatest nation to ever be. We are far from it. Our ideals, however, our foundation and the image that we strive to become, that is the best. And as long as we have hope in these ideals, the dream will never die. All the hatred and bigotry in the world could never kill it. So while things may seem dark, while things may seem hopeless, we can never give up. That's what being American means. We fight for what's right, no matter who's in charge or running things. We cannot give up on the dream. The dream of peace and of hope. So if you're worried or if you're scared, stand up. Do something. But don't act out in anger or frustration. I know it can be hard, maybe the most difficult thing imaginable, but we can do it. Because America is more than a country, it is more than borders or a president. It is an idea. A dream."
"But how… how do I…"
"You use your talents," Cap broke through the zipties, leaving them to snap to the floor. "You use your heart. You use your voice. You use whatever you can. But you don't back down."
"How do we do that though. The odds, they… they feel impossible."
"We do it together," Cap held his hand out, picking the boy up from the floor. "We stand. United. Forever."