(Author's Note: As promised, your three-thousand, same day as Chapter Five chapter (mini-mid-A/N-update; I spelled Chapter as "Capter" because I am a winner.)! Well, not same day exactly, but within the same 24 hour time period. Anyways, I hope you all get a kick out of Stevie making a fool of herself as I did when I failed on keeping up my chapter-uploading consistency. Enjoy, enjoy, I love all of you who read this.)
"I don't know if I can do this…" Stevie said to herself, looking in the mirror. She'd never been this nervous in her entire life. Not going into fights in back alleys, not out dancing with Bucky as other gals glared daggers at her, not trying to enlist in the army, not even being in the army. This was a new and advanced kind of fear that she wasn't prepared for.
"Try not to think about it too much, kid," a man came up behind her, giving her shoulder a tight but encouraging squeeze. "Just tell em what they need to know; the show advertises bonds, bonds buy bullets, bullets kill Nazis. Simple and clean, no gimmicks."
No gimmicks, Stevie thought to herself disdainfully. Sure, this was as serious as one could get about this war effort.
She grabbed her own ponytail, dragging it through a small opening in the back of her costume mask. She frowned at her reflection. She didn't have enough time to really think about how foolish she looked when she heard her cue… The light fanfare did nothing to soothe her anxiety… And slight disgust.
She ran towards the stage, grabbing her prop on the way out. A shield. According to the director, the papers had been obsessed with what he called "the money shot", her holding a taxi cab door when she'd hunted down the Hydra spy that'd murdered Dr. Erskine and cost the rest of the country a chance at making more super soldiers.
Stevie had looked at the picture multiple times. She almost couldn't believe it was her. But, when she looked in the mirror, she would see the same face staring back at her from the reflection. Stevie thought the whole thing surreal.
Shield in hand, she ran out into the fray of girls dancing on stage. She took the center, looking out. It was her first show. The crowd was gargantuan, she almost wanted to throw up. Kids were piled into the first couple of rows and she saw their expectant faces. She put on a smile, just for them.
"Who's strong and brave here to save the American way?" the girls prompted through a song. Stevie almost jumped, looking down as her line came up. She looked down at the back of her shield. For the first show, the director had let her have her script on her.
"Uh," she coughed. "Not all of us can fire a gun, or pilot a plane." she addressed the crowd. "But, War Bonds can help put a bullet in the barrel of your… Your best guy's gun." She almost shrank behind her shield as the music nearly cut her off. She was definitely not cut out for show business, that much was clear.
The song continued, and she felt her cheeks grow even redder as the time went on. She screwed up most of her lines, stumbling over them like she was trying to walk down a staircase in the dark. The gals behind her, wonderful, wonderful people that they were, gave the crowd smiles and confidence that Stevie just could not provide.
However, there was one particular part of the show that she enjoyed. It was a surprise for all of the kids who didn't know the show. It took all of Stevie's willpower to not grin about what was about to happen. She steeled herself, determined to not let the surprise slip.
"Now, our enemy is sneaky," she said. She'd practiced this line with her co-star enough to know this part like the back of her hand. "So, we must have constant vigilance. Nothing can slip by us."
Cue the kids.
"Behind you-!"
"Look out!"
"Cap'in, look out!" Stevie grinned, turning around and swinging a fake right hook at a man dressed up as Adolf Hitler. He dropped to the ground in heap to the extreme delight of the children in the first row. They cheered as she saluted them, finishing her speech about how much buying War Bonds would help the troops. She let out a sigh of relief when the curtains finally dropped.
She walked over to "Hitler", holding out a hand to him. He peeked open an eye and grinned up at Stevie. "You doin' alright?" she asked, giving him a pout. "Didn't hit you too hard, did I?"
"Hardly," he said in a fake German accent that made Stevie snort out a chuckle. He grinned at her, taking her hand, pulling himself up. "You seem to enjoy that part of the show a bit too much, Rogers," he said in his normal voice. He was probably from somewhere in New York, Stevie thought. Queens, maybe. His accent was there, but faint.
The guy's actual name was Thomas. Thomas Parker. He was a nice enough guy. Both he and Stevie had lucked out in a way. Neither of them had to sing or dance throughout the entire production. The two had become real good friends while they sat on the sidelines. He'd even helped her learn some of her lines.
She remembered back to one of the practice runs they'd done on the show. Stevie had never taken an acting class. She didn't know how to act out a fight. And, when someone snuck up behind her, it usually meant she was in a fight. She remembered the first time they'd done the part where she had to "punch" him. She had read the script, sure, but she didn't ever know exactly when it was coming. The director had called, "Now!" and it had startled her. She swung around, and had clipped Thomas on the nose. Whether it was out of sheer dumb luck or some other outside force sparing the cartilage within, Thomas' nose hadn't broken.
Stevie didn't think she'd ever apologized more in her entire adult life than she had as Thomas got looked at by a gal who worked part time as a nurse. She'd said sorry in every which way she knew how. Thomas had insisted that he was fine and eventually got Stevie to calm down. She'd taken him out for drinks afterwards.
"Eh, it's all for the kids," she said. She was about to say more when one of the stage hands told her that people wanted to see her, have her sign autographs and stuff of that ilk. She turned to her "arch-nemesis" and waved a bit. "See you around?" he nodded.
"See you, Captain America," he said, walking off stage to no doubt take the make up off of his face. Stevie smiled as he walked away, heading out to greet the crowd. Back to work, she thought to herself.
Stevie always thought she'd be a great nanny. She didn't think she'd ever meet a fella who'd want to make a wife out of her, so she had settled on the idea that, if her dreams of being an artist failed, she could always go into being a nanny or teacher or anything that had to do with children. She didn't know if it was because she was always so small and frail, but she related to the kids she saw in the crowd. She couldn't imagine what it would be like, hearing all about this war at such a young age. She was barely two years old by the time the first World War ended. To grow up in a time of war had to have some sort of an effect on these kids. She was determined to make a positive impact on the kids of the day.
So, it didn't matter in that moment that she looked like an idiot. It didn't even matter that she felt like an idiot. It was the right thing to do. So, still in the costume that made her look pretty silly, she approached the waiting fans with a smile on her face.
The crowd, somehow, seemed larger when she was off of the stage. The kids from the front rows all jostled amongst one another to see her. Stevie felt her cheeks flush at the idea that they were all so excited to see her. She had been a nobody for her entire life. To be someone that people actually wanted to see? It was a new feeling that she feared she'd never get used to.
A little girl was near the front of the line. Small, couldn't be more than five years old, with the cutest little braids Stevie'd ever seen, she clutched a small American flag in one chubby hand, a piece of crumpled paper and a pen in the other. Stevie knelt down in front of her.
"Hello," she said, giving the girl a smile. The girl looked at her with her big brown eyes. "What's your name, sweetheart?"
"Rosie," the girl said after a few moments of shy silence. Stevie's smile grew a little.
"Rosie, what a cute name." Rosie held out her pen and paper. Stevie took it and smiled, using her shield as a clipboard of sorts. She quickly sketched out Rosie, a couple of pen strokes that didn't really do this young girl's cuteness justice. But, the smile that came to Rosie's shy face was enough for Stevie. She signed her name, with a "To Rosie" at the bottom. She handed it back to her and the girl scampered off. Stevie stood and looked at the other dozens of kids waiting to meet her. It was going to be a long meet and greet.
To meet with every kid, mother with a baby, or young man that had wanted to see her, Stevie was there for two and a half hours. Had she been the way she used to be, the effort of standing that long would've winded her, not to mention holding babies, hugging kids, or chatting with some soldiers about to be shipped off. But, much to her surprise, as the last kid ran towards his mom, yelling about how he'd gotten to meet a superhero, she had never felt so relaxed.
Senator Brandt had come to the first show. One of the men that ran the theater where the show was held told her that he had wanted to talk with her, but since she insisted on meeting everyone else that wanted to see her, he had gone home. He would give her a call in the morning.
Thomas had hung around with her. She walked over to him and stretched. "How do ya think we did on our first show?" she asked him. He grinned and looked at Stevie.
"Think we did okay, don't you?" he said. "Want to head out for a drink?" Stevie shook her head. "Aw, c'mon, Rogers."
"Sorry, Mr. Parker," she said. "I've gotta rest up. Senator Brandt wanted to talk to me in the morning, and I'd rather have my wits about me when I do." Thomas nodded, understanding pretty quickly.
"Sure," he said. "Next time, then." Stevie smiled at him and went backstage to grab her things.
Stevie caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror as she entered her dressing room. Since the procedure, she hadn't really had the chance to get a real good look at what had happened to her. Sure, she'd seen the photo of herself hiding behind her taxi door shield, but that was mainly just her head down to her shoulders.
She took off her mask first. She felt the ponytail she had pulled her hair up with come off as she took the mask off. Her golden brown hair tumbled about her shoulders. The gals at church always commented that she had nice hair, but, Stevie thought it was too long most days. It'd grown a couple inches since she was enlisted. She made a mental note to get a haircut.
Her face was the next thing that caught her attention. What used to be a thin, pale, and drawn looking face was now filled out to what could be considered normal, the color in her face was that of someone healthy, and the bags under her eyes had all but vanished. Stevie brought a hand up to her nose, touching the tip gingerly. Due to her poor circulation, her nose had always felt like an ice cube. A pleasant warmth now radiated from it, and she smiled a little.
The last thing she wanted to do was look at the rest of herself in the mirror. As she stripped off her costume, leaving her in a white tank top and her unmentionables. She remembered back home that she looked haunting when her reflection stared back at her. Her bones looked as though they were just below the surface of her paper thin skin. Her skin was always pale, always cold. When she breathed in, she was able to count her ribs. On a bad day, she could actually see her heart beat.
But, now, she had filled out. Her body that used to look like a pencil had now turned into an hourglass figure. She had always been jealous of the gals back home had curves that were on all the magazines. Now, she could be one of those girls on the covers of those magazines.
She wondered, briefly and much to her surprise, how Bucky'd like her now. The gals he'd always take on his exploits were pretty and curvy, everything Stevie wasn't. But, the way she looked in the mirror that night, she knew that the dresses she longed to wear would fit her well. Maybe well enough to win the attention of-.
Whoa, she thought. Calm down there, Rogers. She shook her head. Bucky would never go for someone like her. They had been friends for so long, to go out as a couple? Stevie knew it wouldn't work out. He'd be sitting in the crowd as he married some lucky gal, and she'd have to wear that fake smile, and she'd have to pretend to be happy for them…
Pretend to be happy? Stevie ran a hand through her hair, shaking her head. How could she even say that to herself? If her best friend was happy, she should be happy for him, whether he was with her or not. But, what worried her was whether or not she could do it, and why it would be so difficult.
Was it because…?
She felt heat rise to her cheeks. She wrapped her arms tightly around herself, shaking her head in an attempt to free herself from the thought. Of all the stupid things to be thinking about in a time of war and suffering, she was concerning herself with matters of the heart. She couldn't afford to think that way.
Not yet anyways…
Stevie walked to her apartment. It was late at night and she wasn't exactly worried about getting jumped by anyone. It was a weeknight and almost midnight. She was confident that she was alone. She looked up at the sky, and all she could think about was how much her life had changed in the past month.
Before, she would've been petrified to be walking by herself, without Bucky or the choir girls from church. She would've been exhausted by now, winded from so much walking and anxiety. She would've called a cab. But, now, she was walking by herself, and felt a confidence she hadn't felt in her entire life. She had to admit, it was bizarre.
She reached her apartment a little after 12:30, climbing up the stairs and smiling as she felt her key in her pocket. She hadn't forgotten it this time. She unlocked her door and walked into the apartment for the first time in months. The last night she'd been here was the night she'd been finally enlisted.
Stevie took a shower once she placed her duffle bag on her sofa. She felt the sweat from the show melt away, felt the grime fall from her hair with the water. She toweled herself off and walked into her bedroom. She frowned. Her clothes wouldn't fit her anymore. She hadn't thought about that.
Grimacing in her towel, she glanced at the duffle bag. She'd have to wear her clothes from the day. She grabbed her tank top and her khaki pants, slipped them on before crawling into her bed.
As she laid her head down, a realization hit her like a speeding truck. She wasn't the same. She would never be the same. And, she thought, she was the only one who would ever be this way. The last of the serum Dr. Erskine had made was lost, seeping into the cement on a dock somewhere.
The tears came before she knew what was happening. Slow at first, but steadily becoming streams cascading down her cheeks. She covered her mouth, smothering the weak cries that escaped her lips. Her eyes squeezed shut and she tossed and turned in her bed. She was usually stronger than this, what had gone wrong?
Her physical weakness, she eventually figured, was her greatest strength. Because she was so feeble before, her confidence and her mental strength had to make up for lost space. But, now that she was the strongest she could be, Stevie lost her confidence in herself. Dr. Erskine had been right; being the person she was, she knew not only the value of strength, but the price of it… And it was losing the person that she used to be.
Senator Brandt called her very early the next morning. Stevie had been up all night, panicking, crying, wondering what her life would amount to now that she had changed. She heard the phone ringing in the next room, but it took a couple of rings for her to get moving. Unsteadily, she rose out of bed, heading to the apartment's main area, where the phone sat on a table. She picked it up.
"Stevie Rogers," she greeted, trying to mask her anxiety and drowsiness.
"Rogers, this is Brandt." the Senator sounded a lot better than Stevie felt. "Kid, the show last night was a hit. Newspapers came out this morning with reviews and bond sales are going through the roof. You did it, Rogers, you really did it…!"
"That's excellent news, sir," Stevie said with fake enthusiasm.
"We've got another show scheduled for next week in Chicago," he said. "We'll be tourin' the country in no time! Just you wait, we'll really make a difference in this war. I can feel it, kid. I'll see you at the theater!" With that, the Senator hung up. Stevie held the phone in her hand, taking a deep breath.
More shows, she thought. Wonderful.
(Author's Note: Welp, it's done! I don't know where this chapter was going, still don't in fact. Don't really know where Thomas came from, and he probably won't show up again. BUT, I hope that you all liked this chapter! We're headed to Europe next chapter, so be prepared!)