Captain America: Long Forgotten Sons
"Awake Too Long" Part Two By Joey West
"I hope you understand the situation you're in Captain Rogers. You've committed treason, my friend. Treason. You're a war criminal, an ex-patriate. You've betrayed everything you stand for... and all for what, huh? A couple of goddamn japs, that's what. You almost lost the war for-"
"I almost lost the war for us, did I? You're funny, Burnside. Just in that half-a-sentence, you've forgotten what this is all about." Steve Rogers sits, bandaged up and in his tattered Captain America suit, across from William Burnside. Burnside is a tall and slender man, small wrinkles cover his face, circular glasses with a silver frame sit on his nose and a bit of grey grows on his temples. "It was never about winning or national pride. It was about stopping the death of millions of innocent people... and with what you just did- I didn't betray everything we stood for. You did. Now where the hell is my partner!?"
Burnside smirks, at the moment he thought he'd lost the war of words between the two, the Captain gave him back his ace in the hole. The man leans forward, "I assume you mean Mr. Barnes?"
"Bucky. Yes."
"I'm afraid your little mutiny has cost James Buchanan Barnes his life."
Steve goes into silence, he puffs into his hand as it slaps into his face. The Captain's face grows red, trying to hold the tears in, he sighs. He throws his body back into the chair, the handcuffs pulling him back forward. Burnside speaks once more, "And you want to know the best part of it, Steve? You couldn't even stop us- and now you're going to spend the rest of your life locked up. How about that?"
SEVENTY YEARS LATER
Wyndam Prison, Just Outside Pax Americana
An older William Burnside paces across the burned and broken ruins of Wyndam Prison as a group of Watchdogs search the place. He doesn't seem to have a reaction, keeping his walls up to hold in the rage or genuinely unbothered? You wouldn't be able to tell. His Supervisor , Beverly, walks over to him, a tablet in hand, she speaks, "He's gone, Bill."
"Obviously. Tell everyone to return to their stations, this was a waste of time."
"You don't seem very concerned, sir."
"That's because I'm not."
"May I ask why?"
Burnside turns to her, smiling, "You don't know what I did to him. I broke him, tore him apart from the inside. He's not "Captain America", he hasn't been for quite a while. The man who we locked up isn't the same man who broke the chains." He pauses, turning to Beverly, "He's no threat. We can continue as planned. Tell the Sons that."
She nods, pulling her phone out and walking away.
The Bunker, Beneath Pax Americana
The masked Captain America stands, commanding a large group of prisoners from Wyndam Prison. Sam Wilson, the Falcon, sits to the side next to the new Bucky, who continues to sharpen a knife. Next in line sits Steve Rogers, who watches the young man drive a piece of stone against the thin piece of metal. The Captain heads over to his two allies, Wilson cutting him off before he can say anything, "He still hasn't spoken a word, Cap."
The Captain kneels over to Steve Rogers, who refuses to make eye contact. Cap speaks, "Captain Rogers."
"Captain America." Steve sighs. "What the hell is this?"
"This is our... home of sorts. The bunker. Beneath Pax."
"I got that." Rogers says, his tone becoming a lot harsher and his voice growing louder, "I meant- What are you doing? Who the hell even are you?"
Captain America unmasks himself, dropping his cowl to the floor. "My name is Jack Monroe. Back when you were in Wyndam, the American government revived Operation Rebirth, choosing one man to take the shield... and that was me. General Burnside oversaw the project- and it worked."
"Continue."
"I assume you know about what's happening in Pax Americana, right?" Steve stays silent, Monroe carrying on, "Well. I-you-we ALL know we need you more than ever. This damn country's been falling apart ever since you... did what you did. Ever since they locked you up. We need you to take the shield again."
Steve chuckles, looking up at Monroe, Wilson, Bucky and Jack exchanging looks of confusion, "You want me to lead a revolution? You lock me up for 70 goddamn years and now you come running to me for help? No. No, I'm not going to help you. I'm getting the hell out of this goddamn country and when I do, I'm never going to turn back. Ever."
Jack Monroe rises, putting his hands on his belt buckle, Rogers looking up at him angrily. "Come with me, then."
The two walk for a while until reaching a seemingly endless, black tunnel. Both of them turn to it, Monroe pointing into the dark. "Alright. The tunnel leads to NYC, if you really mean what you say... there's your escape." Monroe clicks his fingers, Bucky bringing a backpack. "Clothes, supplies... and a couple hundred dollars."
"You've been preparing for this?"
"We... I expected you to be a little pissed after being locked up for 70 years."
Steve pokes his eyes into the bag, a replica of the traditional Captain America suit at the very top of the pile. "A little." Roger sighs, walking off into the dark. Monroe walks back into the light of the bunker, Wilson and Bucky greeting him. Wilson remarks, "This is the saint you were talking about? The original Captain America?"
"He's a different man. I met him, back in the day, when I was a boy. Back when he was in his prime. He was... well, he was the greatest man I ever met. Burnside broke him, made sure he did. Put a news radio in his cell so he could hear what his country turned into while he was locked up in chains." The other two go silent, Monroe continuing, "Back when I met him, he told me one thing. Even when the weight of the world is pressing down on you, when you're ready to give up... you stand up. You always stand up. I think he's forgotten how. But he'll find a way... he always found a way."
The Tunnel
"Stand up, she said. Stand... up..." Dropping to the floor, back against the wall, Steve begins to pant and sigh. Rubbing his face, he continues to murmur, "God damn. Not another one of these. No. I need to- god damn. God damn."
Rogers grabs his own wrist, his hand shaking. Staring into it, he tries to stop the movement, getting a quick glance of something moving behind it. "Stand up, Steve." Footsteps. "Stand up."
The light of his torch is blocked by a feminine figure, which heads closer to him. A touch to the face, a kiss to the forehead. "Shh. It'll all be alright soon. I'm here, Steve."
"Peg?" Steve cries, his hand touching her face, "You're... you're not here. You're never here."
"No. No, I'm not. But I'll be with you soon enough. You can get on that plane and you can fly over to me, you'll find me. I won't be... quite as young."
"I don't care."
"And you'll meet our little boy. You'll see his face for the very first time."
"I missed 70 years of his life. 70 years I'll never, ever get back with him.I don't even know if he's still alive. Hell, I don't even know if you're still alive."
"I know, but you can make every second count right now- by coming home to us. Stand up, Steve. Stand up."
THE NEXT DAY
New York City
Steve's eyes open, on instinct dancing around the streets. He lays on a park bench, a coat wrapped around his body and tucked right under his nose. People whizz by him, some giving him a glance and throwing coins at his back. An weight presses down on his feet, someone is sitting on him. He feels a pat on the back, turning and finding a young, around 19 year-old, boy dressed in colourful red and blue uniform and a domino mask at the end of a bench. "Morning, sunshine."
Steve doesn't dare speak to him, rising to his feet and ignoring him as if he wasn't there. James Buchanan Barnes beams at him, just walking over to his old friend, "Come on, we've a plane to catch."
The old Captain lumbers along the street, using lamppost and telephone boxes to support his weight every now and again. The boy in blue follows him, trying to make conversation. "Do you remember what Burnside said to you? "I'm gonna make sure you never existed- you and your little friend. No war memorials, no record of either of your existence." Do you remember that, old friend?" The Captain breaks, nodding back at the ghost from his head. "There's a war memorial just by the bridge to Pax, I'd like to see if I was remembered. Could we?"
Steve turns away from him, silently accepting and taking a little detour.
He walks the streets of NYC for almost an hour until reaching a garden full of names, he circles around it for half an hour. Searching and searching, James Buchanan Barnes, he prays for his friend to be honoured in some shape or form. The boy's "ghost" steps behind him, putting his hand on his shoulder. "It's useless, Steve."
Rogers pulls his hand out, scratching his nail against an empty space on one of the memorial statues. At the very bottom, in a very crude manner, a name reads "James Buchanan Barnes". He stares at it for a second, looking around to see if anyone caught him. As he does that, he catches something in the corner of his eye, a mass of people near the bridge. Turning to it, he finds them holding signs and chanting "Free Pax".
He takes a breath, turning a blind eye to it.
SEVENTY FOUR YEARS EARLIER
"Rogers. Rogers? You're not serious, Reinstein. You're joking, aren't you?"
"Do I look like I am joking, General Burnside?"
"No... and that's what scares the hell out of me. You're going to waste our miracle super steroid on Steve Rogers of all people?" Burnside holds a bottle of bourbon in his hand, pouring it into Dr. Abraham Reinstein's glass. He chuckles at the German doctor, taking a sip right from the bottle. "You're insane."
"You may be right. But the boy... the boy is special. I can tell- you can tell- he is not in this for the war."
"If you're not in it for the war, you're not in it. Simple as that. I don't even know why you vouched for the kid."
"If you're in our... organisation... for the war, you're not in our organisation. This boy wants to stop bullies, end the violence and that is why we need him. These others, they want violence, they live for it. We are here to end that cycle of violence."
"Hey. I want peace more than anything, you know if I could end this now, I would. Hell, sign me up for Operation Rebirth."
"Ha. But you are, as they say, an asshole. We don't pick assholes to end conflict. Assholes create conflict."
"You're seriously going to use the word "asshole" in one of your profound statements? Only you. Only you, Dr. Abraham Reinstein."
"What we need is someone who is going to stand up to 'assholes'."
The Watchtower, The Centre of Pax Americana
Bright and beautiful, the city of Pax Americana stands before it's emperor, William Burnside. He reminisces and remembers, the fire, the bloodshed and the hope that they gave him. Now, he stands at the point of no return. In his hand he holds a small syringe, an impure version of the super soldier serum, he's been on it for almost three quarters of a decade. To his side, on his desk, a Beretta 92. Jabbing the syringe into his neck, he grabs the gun, his head twitching a bit. Burnside turns, a large door at the back of the room, he heads to it. His hand grabs the doorknob, he opens the door slightly but not far enough to alert those inside the room.
In the centre of the room stands Beverly, a stone faced shell of a woman, she talks to someone on a giant screen, Burnside listening in on their conversation. At each end of the room stand her personal guards.
Burnside closes his eyes, knocking down the door and shooting both of her guards before they can even pull their guns out. The woman turns to Burnside, "Burnside."
"Beverly."
"Do this and you're signing your own death certificate." She says, Burnside pausing for a second. "What exactly do you think you're doing!?"
"Standing up. Breaking free." Burnside mutters as he fires his gun, a bullet eating its way through the head of his supervisor. He turns to the face on the screen, "Hi."
"What is this, Burnside?"
"A declaration of war. I have an entire army of super soldiers under my control. Today is the day America breaks free from you. Today is the day we stand." Burnside pulls his cell phone from the pocket in his blazer and makes a call. "It's time."
World War II Memorial, near the bridge to Pax Americana
An explosion, Steve guards his face, the wall closing off the bridge between New York and Pax falling apart, and from the smoke, a tank appears. Watchdogs march onto New York City, firing warning shots into the air. Burnside's invasion has begun. Another ghost from his past appears, this time taking the appearance of a small and sickly woman. Kneeling, Steve looks into the bag Monroe handed him, the Captain America suit staring back into him. The woman puts her hand on his shoulder, Steve mutters, "Mother."
"Now's the time, Steve."
"Yes, mother."
...BLAM...!