Well, the future didn't last long. Steve and Bucky stuck around long enough at the convention to see the flying car fail. Steve was heartbroken over the fact that Bucky was leaving, and he slipped away in the crowd to find another recruiting tent. He didn't know Bucky had followed him until he grabbed his arm, just before he got in the entrance.
"What do you think you're doin', Punk?" Bucky asked, frowning. It wasn't a mad frown, he was just hurt that Steve wasn't spending time with him on what could very well be their last day together. Steve huffed and pulled his arm from Bucky's grasp.
"What do you think I'm doing?" Steve replied. "I'm trying my luck." He said, brushing the bangs from his face.
"As who? Steve from Ohio? They'll catch you. Worse: they'll actually take you." Bucky almost snapped.
Steve frowned. "Look I know you don't think I can't do this-" Steve started.
"This isn't about how you are, Steve. This is war!" He said, voice raising. "There are so many other important jobs, here." Bucky said.
"What do you want me to do collect scrap metal in my little red wagon?-"
"Yes! Why not?" Bucky cut in.
"I can't do that, Bucky! Not while other men are laying down their lives. I got no right to do any less than that." Steve said, shaking his head. Bucky just didn't understand. It wasn't about proving himself anymore. Steve wanted to help, he needed to help. "That's what you don't understand. This isn't about me!"
"Oh, cause you got nothing to prove?" Bucky said, low. And it was a harsh blow to Steve's heart. Bucky knew how much it meant to be treated like he wouldn't break. To be treated as if he could take on the world like any average Joe, but what Steve didn't get was that he wasn't an average Joe. No, to Bucky his body didn't matter. Steve's heart was far too big and his skull too thick to be average. Bucky knew damn well Steve would get himself killed trying to help someone else, and he wouldn't be able to live without the little blonde.
Steve shook his head and glared at the ground. "Don't you have a date to get back to?" He said, his anger seeping into his voice. Bucky's face dropped before his mouth set in a firm line. He took a few steps back, saluted Steve and left without another word. Steve let out a shuddery sigh and force himself to keep his feelings in check. Bitter regret bubbled up in this throat like raw bile. They were in public, and he couldn't do this now. He walked over to the table and signed up, then sat and waited to see a doctor.
Steve was sitting on the medical table. He fiddled with his suspenders as the assistant left. "Just wait here." They said, but Steve had a bad feeling in his gut. He got up and grabbed his shoes from where they sat on a chair.
Then a Military Police officer came in, and Steve felt his heart go into his throat. They found out. He was caught and he was going to be thrown in jail for lying on enlistment forms. Shit. Shit shit shit! His heart was racing in his chest but he forced the anxiety down as another man walked in after the officer.
"Thank you." A German man said, closing the curtain behind him. He had Steve's folder in his hands. Steve's brow creased in confusion as he looked at the other man.
The man opened the folder and glanced at it. "So… you want to go overseas?" He spoke, glancing back up at Steven. Steve stared at him, clearly unsure. "Kill some Nazis?"
"Uh, Excuse me?" Steve asked. The man came forward and extended his hand to Steve, for a shake.
"Doctor Abraham Erskine. I represent the Strategic Scientific Reserve." Steve stood up and shook his hand.
"Steve Rogers." He greeted, still slightly unsure what was going on. He wanted to know if he had to run before he was arrested. He was a little put off by the smile, and the accent. But in this time, you didn't really trust Germans…
"Where are you from?" Steve asked, after a moment of silence between the two. The Doctor looked up from Steve's file.
"Queens. 73rd Street and Utopia Parkway. Before that Germany." He said with a small shrug. "This troubles you?" Steve quickly shook his head with a quiet "no".
"Where are you from, Mr. Rogers? Hm? Is it New Haven?" He looked at the file more closely. "Five exams; in five different cities-"
"That might not be the right file." Steve quickly interjected. He didn't need this. Not now. The last thing he wanted was to be thrown in jail before he could see Bucky off.
"Oh it is not the exams I am interested in. It's the five tries." He shut the file and walked back over to Steve. "But, you didn't answer my question. Do you want to kill Nazis?" He repeated. Steve blinked and licked his lips nervously.
"Is this a test?" He asked, hesitating slightly on his answer. The Doctor gave a short nod. "Yes."
Steve gave a small shake of his head, looking the Doctor in the eye. "I don't want to kill anyone. I don't like bullies. I don't care where they're from." The Doctor smiled some and nodded.
"Well, there are already so many big men fighting this war… maybe what we need now is the little guy." He said, reopening the file. He crossed something out and shut it again. "I can offer you a chance." He said, leaving the small examination room.
Steve scurried behind him, grabbing his coat. His heart was hammering with excitement and nerves. "Only a Chance." The Doctor continued.
"I'll take it!" Steve said, trying to keep his excitement at bay.
"Good…. So where is the little guy from? Actually. " He asked, opening the file again and filling in a new enlistment form.
"Brooklyn." Steve answered, honestly. Steve smiled some, as the doctor stamped the file. He handed it back to Steve.
"Congratulations, Soldier." The Doctor said, walking away. Steve opened the file to see what had been changed. The first thing he saw was the "A1" stamp, and it was like a dream come true. He had to go home and tell Bucky.