Chapter Nine
Money
Washington DC
Steve hadn't given much thought to money since coming out of the ice. SHIELD had taken care of most of it, setting him up with an apartment and bank account. One of the first things he'd been shown was how to use an ATM so he could buy groceries and other items he might need. Since officially joining SHIELD he assumed he was drawing a salary, but hadn't looked into what it was. One of the accountants had explained the new apartment was part of a package deal. The rent was automatically deducted from his paycheck. It was at a reduced rate, but he was still paying for it. A new debit card was issued to him and he had to learn a new password.
Steve had enough money to live on, which having grown up during the Depression was all he really worried about so he turned his attention to all the things he still needed to catch up on. His first bank statement changed that. He was stunned as it said he had a balance of 8 thousand dollars.
"Oh my God, Friday, I'm rich!" He immediately exclaimed, waving the letter in front of him.
Friday had already scanned his electronic statements so she was aware of the amount in his account. His reaction puzzled her.
"It is eight thousand dollars, Captain,' she replied. "I do not believe that would be considered rich."
"What? Of course it is,' Steve countered. "The most money I ever had at one time was a little over a hundred dollars in my pocket. The most I made in my life was 2400 dollars and that was as a Captain in the army back in 44. Eight thousand, I mean, that's just amazing!"
"Steve, you're salary from SHIELD is 42 thousand dollars a year, the entry level pay for a field agent and hardly a large sum."
"42 thousand?"
"Yes, you would think it higher after your contributions in New York, but they are starting you at the same pay grade as everyone else,' Friday explained.
"42 thousand,' Steve repeated, stunned as he sat down on the couch. He knew things had changed and everything cost more, but the idea of ever making 42 thousand dollars in one year had never occurred to him. In the depression someone with that kind of money could live like a king. The fact was before going into the army; Steve had never met anyone that had 42 thousand dollars or even a thousand dollars. "That's a lot of money. That seems like I'm rich to me."
"Steve,' Friday said, moving over to sit down next to him. "In 1944, yes, that would be a lot of money for most people, but it is not a lot now as far as yearly income. Do you wish to have a discussion about your wealth?"
"I thought you just said 42 thousand wasn't really that rich?"
"It is not,' Friday replied. "Although, your salary from SHIELD is hardly the only money you possess."
"What do you mean?" Steve asked.
"You have considerable other resources in your portfolio,' Friday replied. Pulling up a schematic on the television Friday began to explain just how much money Steve had at his disposal. "The army owes you back pay, with commensurate promotions and salary increases for the last 70 years. You were missing in action, so it applies. In fact when you were recovered, the process was begun to make those funds available to you."
"Really?" Steve asked. "How much are we talking about?"
"Several million dollars."
"M-M-Million?" Steve stammered.
"Several million,' Friday repeated. "There are also your residuals from your short motion picture career. You did join the Screen Actors Guild, did you not?"
"Of course,' Steve immediately replied, still flustered by the idea of millions. "I grew up in an immigrant neighborhood; we were all strong union supporters. I still do support unions."
"Well SAG and the studios came to an agreement about how your residuals would be in effect in perpetuity. Since you were lost in combat, it was more of a symbolic gesture, a sort of joint promotion to the war effort after you disappeared."
Steve was only half listening, as the sum Friday told him he was due from the army stunned him.
"A million, really?" He couldn't help asking again.
"Yes,' Friday replied. "Now as to your residuals, it is true they aren't large per check, but when you combine them over seventy years they add up. Plus there was a wave of nostalgia in the sixties about you, so the movies were shown on television quite a bit. When cable first began, channels were desperate for content so there was another up tick in interest in your movies. Now the merchandising is where the money really starts to add up."
"Merchandising? What's that?" Steve couldn't help ask. Frankly he wasn't even sure what merchandising was.
"You,' Friday explained. "Well, you and Captain America to be exact. When it was discussed making a cartoon about you in the sixties, Margaret Carter with the help of Howard Stark managed to trademark both in your name. They didn't think it would be much, but they imagined that if you ever were found, it would pay for your funeral. They were both approaching middle age so I imagine that had something to do with it, but I do not wish to speculate on their motivations. The government challenged the licenses, but in an out of court settlement you retained the lion's share of them. It seems when Senator Brandt came up with the name, he didn't think to trademark it."
"Peggy and Howard trademarked me?"
"Yes, it is commonly done with dead famous celebrities. Miss Carter spearheaded the effort, but Mr. Stark played his part as well," Friday continued. "Although we haven't discussed him yet, a famous singer from the 50s named Elvis Presley actually makes more money now then when he was alive."
"How is that possible?" Steve asked, not believing any of this could be true.
"In your case,' Friday explained. "Any company that wants to make a product with your shield, likeness or name has to pay you a licensing fee. Companies want to align their brand with your image and reputation. They also want to use you to sell their products."
Friday briefly displayed a series of items that used either his shield or his likeness.
"Since New York the demanded has increased tenfold,' she explained. "You are quite popular and since the marketing was already in place, quite lucrative. Your shield is a beautiful, yet simple design that lends itself to merchandise much easier than the other Avengers, even Mr. Stark. He is currently number two in merchandise behind you. I don't think I have to tell you this is a situation he is not pleased with."
The numbers continued to climb on the screen beyond anything Steve thought possible. It suddenly struck him he might be the second richest Avenger after Tony Stark.
"Friday, this is insane,' Steve finally said. "I don't need all that money. I didn't earn it. Can't I just give it away to people that do? Maybe the March of Dimes or something?"
"You do know polio has been cured, Steve?" Friday asked.
"Yes, I was told that early on,' Steve replied. "Dr. Salk, I believe the man's name was."
"Yes, he along with others found the vaccine,' Friday explained.
"So there's no March of Dimes anymore?"
"No, they still exist,' Friday replied. "If you wish to give them all your money, it is your right. I would caution you against it though."
"Why?" Steve asked.
"Because if you give all your money away, you will be depended on SHIELD," Friday explained. "You have voiced misgivings about them in the past, Steve. I believe their plans for the tesseract troubled you. Do you want to be dependent on them completely?"
"No, but just leaving all that money in the bank doesn't seem right, either,' Steve replied. "I don't trust banks that much; I lived through the bank failures at the beginning of the Great Depression. If the money could be helping people, it should be."
"I was not advising you keep all your money in a bank,' Friday stated. "Money though brings with it freedom. If you find yourself in a situation that goes against your principals, having money allows you to walk away. Having looked at your history, Steve, you have a tendency to go against authority, against orders when you feel it is the right thing to do."
"I can't just stand by when I see a situation going south, Friday, no matter what the rules say,' Steve stated.
"I am not debating the merits of that attitude, Steve," Friday explained. "I would just like to point out there are consequences to your actions."
"I know that."
"There can also be financial consequences to your actions,' Friday continued. "If you end up going against the rules or orders, there is something called civil forfeiture. This allows the government, both local and national to commandeer your money if they suspect you of, but have not been charged with crimes. They can take it all and there is very little you can do to get it back."
"Even if I'm only suspected of a crime? That doesn't seem right,' Steve replied.
"Be that as it may, that is one of the laws of the land now,' Friday stated. "If you still wish to give all the money away, that is your prerogative, but I would advise you to wait until you have more knowledge of this time."
"And what do I do while I'm gaining more knowledge, just let it sit in a bank helping no one?"
"No," Friday replied. "If you would allow me, I can make sure it is safe until you have a better understanding. Perhaps you could start with donating your residuals from your movie career? It is a considerable sum and you would be able to see how the process works."
"Where would I donate it too?' Steve reluctantly said. "As you pointed out, I'm a little behind the times as to which charities to give it too."
"I could handle it for you, or you could seek the advice of someone you know,' Friday suggested."
"Most of the people I know are in SHIELD and I'd like to keep them out of it for the reasons you've already stated,' Steve replied. "I don't really know anyone else."
"Maybe I suggest someone, Steve?"
"Of course."
"Miss Potts."
SHIELD HEADQUARTERS
Steve was having his weekly meeting with Maria Hill. They went over the usual, how he was adjusting and what he thought of the few missions he'd been on. It was all standard stuff and Maria was just about to end the meeting, when Steve told her he was going to New York.
"You're supposed to inform us ahead of time if you plan on leaving the area,' she immediately said.
"I am, I'm informing you, "he replied.
"What's the nature of your trip?"
"Personal."
"Do better,' Maria replied.
He seemed to think about if for a moment, before answering.
"I wanted to donor some money to the clean up,' he finally said.
Maria smiled at this.
"You realize Stark and the government are already taking the lead on that, don't you?' She asked.
"Every bit helps, doesn't it?" He replied. "I grew up in New York, so I want to do something to help."
"I can understand that," she admitted. Maria knew how much he made at SHIELD so she doubted he had a lot to give, but understood the gesture. He was Captain America; after all, helping was what he was known for. "Alright, how long will you be gone?"
"Just tomorrow. I'll be back the next day."
"Okay, enjoy your trip."
"Thank you,' Steve said with a smile.
New York – the next day
Friday had set up a meeting with Miss Potts for noon, but Steve had arrived early. He knew as the head of Stark's company, her time was valuable and he didn't want to waste it. So he decided to walk around the city until the meeting. He knew she was probably only taking the meeting because he was Captain America, so he didn't want to take up more of her time then necessary. As he made his way around the city, checking out the clean up, he couldn't help noticing the Stark logo was everywhere. He knew Tony was spending a lot of money on the clean up, but it seemed like he was making sure everyone knew it too.
Steve knew his donation was small compared to what Stark was spending, but he also didn't want everyone knowing about it. He wasn't giving the money to be recognized, it was to help. The focus should be on the people actually doing the work of cleaning up the city, not him because he was a celebrity and gave some money. Steve still felt a bit guilty about the money to be truthful. He didn't feel like he'd earned it. Steve was used to earning what he had, no matter how little it was.
Friday had been very persuasive about taking his time before just giving it all away, but part of him still felt wrong about. During the Depression, Steve and his mother probably wouldn't have made it if others hadn't helped them. It felt like it was his turn to give back. It was a new world, so he would wait as Friday suggested, but only until he had a better grasp on how things worked these days.
He still had some time before his meeting so he stopped at the outdoor café across from Stark tower. He had been there before right after he came out of the ice. It had mostly been about a familiar name, Stark, more than anything else. He understood the people he knew were all probably gone, so the name was at least familiar. His mind was pulled from these thoughts by a familiar figure tentatively making his way into the café.
"Doctor?" Steve called out immediately.
Banner seemed to flinch before he realized who was calling him. He relaxed a bit as he made his way over to Steve table.
"Captain? What are you doing here?" He asked.
"I have a meeting in a little while, so I'm just wasting time,' Steve replied. "Why don't you join me? If you want."
Banner seemed surprised by the offer.
"Are you sure?'
"Yes, I mean you're one of the few people I actually know so it would be nice to not have to sit here alone,' Steve stated.
A small smiled crossed Bruce's face as he took a seat opposite Steve. The waitress came over almost immediately. She refilled Steve's coffee with a smile and then took Banner's order, large tea and a scone. The two of them sat in silence for a moment.
"So you decided to stay in New York?' Steve offered, hoping to start a conversation.
"Well, for now, yes," Bruce replied. 'Tony's rather persuasive."
They both chuckled at this. Before they could continue the waitress came back with Bruce's order. She smiled at Steve and said if they needed anything to just call, her name was Linda.
"You must get that a lot," Bruce observed after she left.
"Good service?" Steve asked, not sure what Bruce was referring to. "I suppose. I have been here before, but it was another waitress that time."
Bruce just looked at him for a moment in disbelief, before chuckling.
"I wasn't talking about the service, Captain," he said. "She obviously likes you. I'm pretty sure it's not me that has her smiling and being so attentive."
Steve had been so focused on other things he hadn't even noticed how friendly the waitress had been. He suddenly remembered the last time he was here and the old guy telling him to ask for the waitress's number.
"I didn't, I mean, I wasn't thinking about …" Steve stammered to say, caught off guard by the whole thing.
"I wouldn't worry about," Bruce said with a smile. "There's worse problem to have, believe me.'
They way his smile disappeared as he said it; Steve knew he was talking about the Hulk.
"Would you mind if I ask you a question about that?' Steve said.
Bruce tore off a piece of his scone and wearily looked at Steve. He was used to people wanting to ask questions about the Hulk. 'What do you want to know about the other guy, captain?"
"I don't, "Steve replied, "I was wondering why?"
"Why what?"
"Why were you trying to recreate the serum?"
That was a question most didn't ask, Bruce. Steve had been given the basic outline of his Avenger teammates and Coulson had mentioned trying to recreate the serum was a cause of the Hulk.
"It was a government project," Bruce replied. "I was one of the scientists working on it."
"So it was in your specialty?" Steve asked.
"Not exactly,' Bruce said with a sad smile. "I was interested in the project, though."
"Why?"
Bruce laughed and then took a sip of his tea. This was not a topic he expected to talk about.
"I'm five feet eight, Captain and perhaps a hundred and fifty pounds,' he finally offered. "Waitresses never look at me the way that one did at you."
"Come on,' Steve scoffed. "That can't be it. You're a genius and one of the top people in your field."
"You'd be surprised what you'd do when you're in love with a woman," Bruce quietly said.
"No, I wouldn't,' Steve replied.
A look of understanding passed between them.
"It wasn't the only reason,' Bruce finally stated. "There was the challenge of being the person to figure out something that had been lost for 70 years. This best minds hadn't been able to do it, I thought I could."
"I guess you like a challenge,' Steve said with a smirk. "We have that in common, I could never walk away from one either."
"That's a nice way of thinking about it,' Bruce said with a chuckle. "It would be nice to believe we had something in common."
"You don't believe it though, do you?"
"No, I don't,' Bruce admitted. "Since this happened, since the "Other Guy", I guess I've been ruminating on how we don't actually know anyone and our perception of other people, even those dear to us, the loves of our lives, are just an assortment of assumptions and suppositions, fractured memories. I not the man most think I am and I imagine you aren't either."
There was a silence between them, the noise of the city filling it in.
"I didn't realize one of your degrees was in philosophy,' Steve said with a smile.
Bruce genuinely laughed at this.
"This experience has almost forced me to be a bit more philosophical,' Bruce offered. "It was one of the reasons I was in India before all this happened.'
"Did you find any answers?"
"No. Maybe. I don't honestly know yet,' Bruce replied.
"I wish I could help,' Steve said. "Unfortunately, the serum didn't give me answers to those sorts of questions. Seventy years in the ice didn't help either."
"Has anything helped?" Bruce asked.
"Sadly, this did,' Steve replied, gesturing around them. "When we fought the aliens, it was simple. I'm sure you even felt that. If we didn't stop them, everything, everyone was lost. It's only after it was over, that things got complicated again."
"Hulk smash,' Bruce mused with a laugh. "That's about as simple as you can get."
