19 - The Sentinel of Liberty
Thursday, July 4, 1918 Brooklyn, New York
In the dying days of 'the great war', a child was born in a poor, rundown Brooklyn neighbourhood. His parents were poor Irish immigrants; his mother worked as a clothes dryer, his father was away on the front. On that day of birth and celebration, few gave much if any thought to Sarah Rogers or her young son. Instead, they were focused on the winding down war in Europe and a grand national holiday. Steve Rogers did not meet his father until 1919. By that point, the boy was a happy if unhealthy child.
The little family did not have much. Though they often discussed giving Steve a younger sibling, Joseph and Sarah Rogers struggled to support even their single child. Joseph, an unskilled labourer, was often between jobs. In 1920 when he died, his wage, meagre as it was, was severely missed. Sarah struggled alone to raise their son. And though Steve Rogers life was not a wealthy one, it was fulfilling. Alongside his childhood friend James Buchanan "Bucky" Barnes, the young Rogers was raised on the Irish Catholic values of his parents and community. The young mother did her best to inspire in her son a sense of duty and moral responsibility. From a young age, Steve would help his mother with her many odd jobs when not at school.
Steve was a frail child, smaller and slower than his peers. Whilst this was a point of bullying for the children in his class, it did not become a problem until he began to fight back. Which he did often. Steve had a strong sense of what was right and what was wrong. Coupled with an intense distaste for bullies, this made Steve the ideal target for harassment. His mother, rather than force him to stop fighting back, attempted to instil in her son the need to fight smarter rather than faster. When possible, she told him, find something to defend yourself with. Try not to get cornered. Don't be afraid to rely on others.
One of the earliest traits Steve discovered within himself was resilience; the young Rogers was stubborn to a fault. Even his loved ones and few friends often found him trying.
–AoS–
1936
By the time of his eighteenth birthday, Steve Rogers was alone in the world. Sarah Rogers Survived her husband by less than two decades. She died in 1936 of Pneumonia. Her son buried her almost alone. Bucky Barnes and a few members of her local congregation were the only other mourners. After her death, Steve desperately tried to find a job in the midst of a depression. Rogers and Barnes stuck together, especially after the latter's family also died.
As the world reached the middle of 1942, Steve was determined to play his part in the escalating conflict with Germany and Japan. It would be at the world's fair that he would meet the man who gave him the chance.
–AoS–
A nurse entered the examination room, whispering something in the doctor's ear. Steve glanced up. Nerves frayed, he began to panic. Maybe Bucky was right. This might have been one risk too far. Maybe he should have just stuck with his friend and the girls. At least that way, the worst that could happen to him was being laughed at. The MPs could do a lot more than that, or just beat him up. The doctor glanced at him before nodding and following the nurse. "Wait here".
"Is there a problem?"
"Just wait here". The physician repeated. Steve's already frayed nerves worsened. Just as he was about to cut his losses and walk out, maybe try again in a few days time, a severe looking soldier in a white helmet entered, followed by a slight man with a beard and moustache and thinning white hair. The old man wore a tweed jacket and white shirt with a black tie. He dismissed the soldier, than regarded Steve shrewdly over the rims of his glasses.
"So," the old man spoke casually with a German accent. "You want to go overseas, and kill some Nazis?"
"Excuse me?" Steve deadpanned.
The man closed the file he was holding and stepped closer, offering a hand. Steve took it. "Doctor Abraham Erskine. I represent the Strategic Scientific Reserve. SSR if you prefer acronyms". Steve nodded, though he didn't really understand what the man was talking about at all.
"Steve Rogers". The doctor made his way over to the cot Steve had been sitting on before reclaiming the seat in his rush to put his shoes back on. He flicked through the papers in the folder he had entered with, not even looking at Steve anymore. Maybe he could try and leave now, he thought briefly. Yet there was something that felt different this time. Maybe this strange German just put him at ease.
"Where are you from?" He found himself asking. The doctor glanced up at him, shooting him a small smile.
"Queens. 73rd Street and utopia Parkway. Before that Germany. This troubles you". He smiled again. Steve immediately denied it. "Where are you from, Mr Rogers? Is it New Haven, or Paramus? Five exams in five cities. Of course it's not the five exams that's the most interesting. Not to me, at least. It's the five attempts. But you didn't answer the question, did you; Do you want to kill Nazis?
"Is this a test?" For several long moments Erskine regarded him like he doubted Steve's intelligence. Finally he spoke.
"Yes".
Steve thought for a moment, trying to think how to phrase his opinion to this strange German doctor. "I don't want to kill anyone. I don't like bullies. No matter where they're from". Erskine gave a small tilt of the head, smiling again.
"Well. There are already so many big men fighting this war. Maybe what we need now is a little guy, huh? I can offer you a chance. Only a chance". Steve grinned at the doctor, leaping up to shake his hand once more.
"I'll take it!"
"Good. So where is the little guy from? Actually". Steve smiled bashfully.
"Brooklyn".
–AoS–
Project Rebirth was - in more ways than one - the single most transformative moment in Steve Rogers' life. It was the time when he first felt worth anything. As though, even if the serum injection failed, or worse, if he wasn't selected, at least he might be able to make some small difference. Camp Lehigh was the hardest work he'd ever experienced. Somehow, he survived. Even managed to rise above everything he'd thought himself capable. Like his mother had taught him, he'd found a way to fight smart. Steve's proudest memory had been the looks on the faces of his compatriots as he handed the flag to the training officer. In truth, he'd been stunned when not one of the others had thought to pull the pin in the flagpole.
–AoS–
Doctor Erskine was dead. A man's blood was on his hands. Steve had wanted so badly to fight. To play his part and make a difference. Now a man who had stood by him and believed in him in spite of everyone around them was gone. Bucky and Peggy were both gone now too. Both off in Europe fighting the war. Steve was stuck going up and down the east coast, dancing with chorus girls, lifting bikes, and socking Hitler in the jaw.
Children cheered whenever they saw him onstage. That was nice. He enjoyed making them happy. Sewing their faces light up made him forget his frustrations, if just for a little while. Still, he missed his friends. At least, he thought Peggy and Howard were friends. They could have been, had things gone differently.
The senator came barging into the dressing room, announcing the troupe were taking a tour of England and the front. Steve tried his hardest not to smile.
–AoS–
Steve rushed after the colonel, terror sinking into his bones. He'd already lost so much of his family. Bucky couldn't be dead as well. There was no way. The two of them had been inseparable since they were kids. Bucky had always watched out for him, even though Steve was older.
He rushed after the Colonel, begging for whatever information they had. At first the older man refused to provide anything. With a sigh, the Colonel removed his cap, running his fingers through his thinning grey hair. Philips closed his eyes briefly. "I've had to write more of these condolence letters than I'd care to think about this morning. But yes, the name Barnes rings a bell. I'm sorry". Steve felt the breath knocked out of his lungs, even as Philips saluted him and he left the command tent.
–AoS–
Peggy found him later that evening, over a useless drink. She silently took a seat in the stool next to him. She didn't ask him if he was alright. She knew he wasn't. "I don't even know why I'm taking this". He told her with a sardonic grin. "I can't even get drunk anymore". He let out a wet chuckle, wiping tears off his cheeks. Peggy wrapped an arm around him, allowing him to let out his feelings.
"Erskine thought you were meant for more than selling bonds. So do I. Your friend may be dead, but those men need someone to be there for them. Someone like Captain America, maybe?"
–AoS–
With Howard flying him, it was an easy trip to the Hydra base. He slammed the back door open, strapping on his chute. Agent Carter wished him luck as he jumped. His stomach lurched as he free fell through the sky, snapping the chute as he descended. Landing in the woods outside the base, he kicked a nearby guard into the tree he stood next to. Ducking down, he watched as a truck rolled down the road towards the base. Breaking into a run, he leaped into the bed of the truck.
The soldiers - caught off guard - were easy to dispatch. Hastily throwing them out, he slid into the cab, disabling the driver as well. Driving the truck past the security checkpoint, Steve rolled it into a park. Leaping out, he ran towards the main facility. A Hydra soldier came around the corner of the hall. Steve thrust the shield up in front of himself to block his shots. Charging forward, he slammed the soldier in the head with the shield before knocking him out and grabbing his helmet.
He made his way through the facility, defeating guards as he went. Eventually fighting his way into the prison block, he explained his appearance to the prisoners before freeing them. He looked around at the other soldiers. "Have any of you seen Sergeant Barnes? 107th infantry? He would have been brought in only recently". Most of them had no idea what he was talking about. One stepped forward, wearing a Canadian uniform. The man was gruff, with thick black hair and a beard the same colour. His hazel eyes were haunted.
"I know where they would have taken your bud, kid. I'll show you". Steve nodded gratefully.
"Thanks. My name's Steve". The Canadian nodded as he picked up one of the German's side arms.
"They call me lucky Jim". With that, they were off. Jim led him through a warren of tunnels, avoiding most enemy patrols. After a few minutes, they found their way to some sort of hospital. As they made their way deeper in, Steve heard a familiar voice whispering. Hurrying into the room, they found their way over to Bucky's bed. Steve hastily broke the straps around his friend's arms, helping him sit up. "It's Me. It's Steve. C'mon." He lifted his friend to his feet.
"I thought you were dead".
"I thought you were smaller". Jim snorted.
"Really?" The Canadian deadpanned. They hurried through the facility. The three men made their way towards the nearest exit. As they were rushing upstairs and about to cross a narrow bridge, a voice called out from across the cavern. "Captain America! I am a great admirer of your films!". Johan Schmidt stood on the other side of the chasm, a short chubby man behind him.
Steve stepped out onto the catwalk. Clutching his recovered pistol in one hand and shield in the other, he pointed the gun at Schmidt. The German smirked. He raised his own gun, firing a shot. Steve raised his shield, the bullet chipping the paint. Schmidt laughed even as Steve charged at him. The other man attempted to retract the bridge, only to scream as a shot slammed into his hand. Blood spluttered out of his hand. Steve glanced back. Jim's gun smoked, even as he pushed it into Bucky's hands, and made his way forward.
Before Steve could shout a warning, Jim had shoved past him to strike out at Schmidt. The German shot him in the shoulder, though he hardly seemed to notice. Steve punched the Hydra leader in the head, staggering him and allowing the Canadian to quickly push past him in pursuit of the other man. Schmidt returned the blow, leaving a dent in Steve's shield. The Hydra leader swiped Steve's leg out from under him. "No matter what lies Erskine told you, you see I was his greatest creation! You can lie to yourself and these men, Captain, but not to me! You may play the soldier, but we are not men, but gods! Unlike you, I embrace it proudly!" Schmidt reached up, gripping the skin at the bottom of his face. Steve gagged as he ripped his face off, revealing a bald crimson skull. The other man smirked down at him. Steve gulped as the German attempted to stomp on his face.
He shoved the shield upwards to block the blow. The metal caved in completely, Schmidt's foot poking through the shield. The German swore as he tried to kick the shield off of himself. Steve lunged at the distracted Hydra leader, sending him careening over the catwalk and towards the ground below. He leaped to his feet, making his way back to Bucky's side. Bucky gestured down at the still dazed Schmidt as several Hydra soldiers rushed to help him. "You don't have one of those do you?" Steve laughed, shaking his head.
–AoS–
Jim rushed after the retreating Hydra man, letting out an enraged shout. The other man glanced back briefly as he made his way to a nearby car, stumbling to climb in. Jim leaped into the air, extracting his bone claws and driving them into the soft leather of the back seats. The Hydra scientist let out a stunned shout as he leaped out of the car, attempting to run. Jim snarled, swiping his claws across the throat of a nearby Hydra man and grabbing his gun. He unleashed a hail of fire, pumping bullets into the short man's legs. Rushing over to him, Jim roughly pulled the man to his feet. The other man whimpered as Steve and his friend came walking out of the facility. Jim shoved his prisoner towards the other two men.
–AoS–
1943
Per Zola's information, they knew Schmidt was searching for something in Africa. Steve, Bucky, and Jim had been instructed to lead their squad on a mission with the express intent of capturing the Hydra commander. They were currently hidden halfway up a mountain, watching the road while they waited for Schmidt. He and Jim stood with the squad, Bucky having found himself a vantage point from which he could snipe. Though Steve couldn't put his finger on what, he was sure there was something off with Jim. The other man was well named.
Jim really did have insane luck. He was faster than everyone in the squad except Steve himself. Whenever he was hit by enemy fire, he seemed to have an easier time shrugging it off and keeping going. He also seemed to require less medication by far. Steve could never remember his fellow soldier being Ill or brought to the medics. A bird call floated down from further up the hill. It was the signal they had agreed on. He and Jim broke into a jog, the rest of the men moving around them.
A shot rung out through the woods. German voices shouted in response, and Steve hurled the shield through the air, smacking the first Hydra man he saw in the temple. Bucky fired again, taking out another man who prepared to fire on Steve. He hoisted the shield up to block a shot from a concealed Hydra soldier. Beside him, Jim leaped on a nearby enemy, slamming him into a tree and driving his bayonet into the man's eye. The rest of the men
opened fire. Steve could see the Hydra trucks on the road ahead. He turned to Jim, shouting to the Canadian that he was in charge of dealing with the rest of this squad. The other man nodded as Steve drove the shield into another man's head, shattering his nose and caving in his teeth.
Steve broke into a run, kicking a nearby German off his bike and riding off after the trucks. He'd been given a job, and fully intended to carry it out. Skidding the bike up next to the second truck, which their Intel had indicated would be carrying Schmidt himself, he leaped onto the roof. A blade came slamming up through the roof. Steve rolled aside to avoid the sword. A pair of hands came through the window. Another man pulled himself out onto the roof. Steve swore as he recognised Heinrich Zemo. The German brandished a sword and shield, purple mask on his face as ever. He lunged at Steve, who dodged his thrust.
"Where's Schmidt?!"
"Why, Herr Captain, did you truly believe there was anything valuable to our cause here? The red skull has no interest in this land. He simply wants back his investment! An investment you stole from him!" Zemo attempted to cut his belly open with a slash from his broadsword. Steve turned the blade aside with his shield throwing a jab at Zemo's face. The German swung up his own shield. Steve grunted and attempted to smack his shield into the other man's wrist. Zemo snaked his sword hand back to avoid the attack, slashing him down the leg. Steve hissed as a sheen of scarlet flicked through the air. He smacked Zemo in the ribs with his vibranium shield, staggering the shorter man.
The German coughed, before attempting to stab him in the eye. Steve raised up his shield, the blade bouncing off it. He shoved as hard as he could, sending the baron tumbling back onto the hood of the truck. The driver screeched to a halt, sending them both sprawling onto the patch of grass beside the road. Steve leaped to his feet. Zemo stabbed the tip of his blade into the dirt, pushing himself into a standing position.
Steve bull rushed the German baron, tackling him through several trees. The other man groaned as his sword fell from his grip. Steve ripped out the pistol from the holster at his hip, shoving it against the man's chin. Zemo raised his hands, offering to surrender. Steve nodded grimly, restraining the baron's wrists. The super soldier dragged the other man to his feet. A hurried voice came through his radio. Steve could make out just enough to tell it was Bucky calling for help. Zemo smirked.
Jim came rushing out of the jungle, rifle in one hand. He grabbed Zemo's sword off the ground, before taking the other man from Steve's grip. "*Go," he offered. "I'll watch this clown. Go get Barnes!" Steve nodded gratefully as he rushed off.
–AoS–
Steve ran up the mountain. He found his way to the foot of the tree. Bucky's rifle, which had been broken in two, was lying near a large boulder. There were a few strands of red hair and blood leading away from the tree. Thin scuff marks could be seen leading downhill. Steve hurried down the trail, taking care to walk alongside the tracks. He found his way down to the side of the hill. There was only one pair of footprints now, leading towards a set of tire tracks. He knelt in the dirt, glancing around at the blood stains.
Steve stiffened slightly. A thin metal blade had been placed against the back of his neck. "Do not turn around, Captain" hissed an accented voice behind him. "Your companion is certainly dead. Remaining in our land is not for you. You would be unwise to try and stay here. We will not allow you or your people to steal more of our treasures. Get out". The blade was retracted. Steve took a shuddering breath, before rising to his feet.
–AoS–
April 29th, 1945
The red army was advancing quickly. All sides knew the war would soon be over. Germany's defeat was all but secured. Even all but the most dedicated of Hydra forces had either attempted to flee, thrown down their arms, or been forced to fight to the death. There were rumours of high ranking Nazis fleeing the Reich like rats from a sinking ship. The SSR's informants had alerted them that Schmidt had planned a final strike to try and defeat the Soviets and western allies in a single stroke. With the discovery of Hydra's main base of operations, an assault had been ordered. Steve and Jim would take point, though all of the SSR would be deployed.
–AoS–
The assault had played out almost perfectly. A few soldiers had been lost, but with Jim by his side the entire way, wielding Zemo's sword, Steve had fought his way to the edge of a massive airfield. The two rushed after the retreating red skull. The Nazi scientist leaped onto his plane, waving goodbye to the two allied soldiers as he went. Steve heard someone calling his name from behind. He spun around as Peggy and the colonel came rushing up the airfield towards him in one of Schmidt's modified cars. Steve turned to Jim, telling the Canadian to finish mopping up the Hydra forces. The other man nodded, and the two men clasped arms. Steve rushed off towards the car.
He leaped up onto the front of the car. As they reached the back tires of the plane, Peggy grabbed Steve's hand as he prepared to jump. She tugged him down, and the pair shared a kiss. She offered him a smile as he pulled back. "Go get them, cap". Steve nodded. He leaped off the front of the car, sailing through the air. The breath was briefly knocked out of his lungs as he slammed into the landing gear. The wheel rolled up into the plane. Quickly disposing of the fighter pilots and soldiers in the plane, Steve made his way up to find Schmidt in the cockpit. The Hydra commander snarled, lunging at him.
Steve smacked the other man in the head, delivering a kick to the German's knee. Schmidt glared at him, firing an energy blast from his pistol. The shield absorbed the energy, throwing it back at the other man. Schmidt slammed into the glass, grinning as the plane began to soar upwards as he kicked the controls. "Lebewohl, herr Captain" Schmidt snarled, shooting the glass and parachuting out of the plane. Steve grit his teeth as a thin metal plating slung down over the cockpit to seal the breach in the glass. He made his way over to the controls.
"Peggy! You there?"
"Steve?"
"Peggy! Schmidt bailed out over the water! No idea if he survived or not, but he had a chute. The tesseract is here. He was using it to arm some sort of bombs. They're still ready to go off, but I took out the pilots. There's enough here to wipe out London, Paris, Moscow, St Petersburg, and the entire Eastern Seaboard! I don't think I've got enough fuel for a safe landing!"
"Hang on Steve! I'll get Howard! You owe me a dance, remember?" He could hear the tears in her voice. Steve smiled slightly.
"Well we'll need to play something slow. I'd hate to step on your toes. Peggy, I'm sorry. I love you". Steve pushed on the controls. His stomach lurched forward. The plane descended towards the ice coated water below. He felt the craft shake violently as it slammed into the water below.
–AoS–
Saturday, September 6, 2012
Steve pounded on the sand filled bag, memories flashing by. He was grateful to Tony for buying the old gym for him. Maybe he could run it to earn some money. Even if not, he appreciated the opportunity to get out of the mansion. It was strange to go from having nothing to living in the lap of luxury. And sharing a house with Tony Stark, Pepper Potts, Happy Hogan, Hank Pym, Janet Van Dyne, and Bruce Banner was intense. Tony constantly reminded him of Howard. Doctor Pym seemed to keep to himself, though from what Steve had seen, seemed nice enough. Miss Van Dyne was seemingly always on. He appreciated her constant effort to include him, but it was nice to catch a break. Banner confused Steve the most. He seemed intelligent and conscientious, although also seemed even more standoffish than Steve himself.
The bell hung above the door rung. Steve sighed, removing his gloves and dropping them on the sports bag Miss Potts had bought for him. A blonde teenager stepped through the doorway, waving at Steve as he did so. "Sentinel." Steve greeted the boy. "Nice to see you again. You left before I could thank you for pulling me from the ice". The boy smiled.
"Don't mention it. It's sort of what I do". His smile turned sheepish. "You can call me Nate though. Or Nathaniel, if that makes you more comfortable". Steve nodded. He sat in a nearby wooden chair. Sentinel - Nathaniel, he reminded himself - wandered through the gym, looking around. "I was wondering, you've been trained to fight, haven't you? I mean, properly trained". Steve frowned and nodded.
"Yes? What difference does that make?" Nathaniel ran a hand down the wall, brushing off cobwebs.
"I was wondering if you could train me. I could help you learn about this time in return. Or I could give you some money, if you prefer." Steve raised an eyebrow.
"You want me to train you to fight? Why?" Nathaniel shrugged.
"Every time I fight, I just end up relying on my strength. Eventually, I'm sure I'll find myself in a fight with someone I can't just outstrength or overpower. If I knew some basic fighting techniques, I can at least have that to fall back on". Steve nodded thoughtfully. He'd been looking for something to do since coming out of the ice. Maybe this was it.
"Alright," he told the boy with a nod. "I'll teach you how to fight, you teach me how to survive in this world". He extended a hand. Nathaniel took it. They shook hands. Steve made his way over to the door, locking it and pulling the blinds. Making his way into the back room, he grabbed his shield, walking back out into the main room.
"Wait," the boy asked. "You want to start now?"
"We might as well. Lesson number one, fight smarter, not harder. You need to use your advantages to the fullest. I've been watching the footage of some of your fights. You haven't been taking advantage of your speed. Being able to avoid a hit is better than being able to take a hit". Nathaniel nodded thoughtfully. His form shifted before Steve's eyes, clothes replaced by. Sentinel's suit and cape. Sentinel flew towards him, swinging his fist, only to smack into the shield. Steve smirked.
A/N: In case there was even a small amount of people who missed it, the lucky Jim character is wolverine. Having him involved in WWII given the combination of MCU and Earth-616 just made sense. Having him work with Steve also allows for them to meet up again and each gain something from that. Steve can have someone other than Bucky from his time, and Logan has someone who remembers at least some of the things he's forgotten from his past. Having him involved also allowed Steve to get
to Schmidt a little faster, thereby slightly changing the end of the first Avenger. I'm sure Red Skull will be back again at some point.
Johan Schmidt / Red Skull - Hugo Weaving
Abraham Erskine - Stanley Tucci
Peggy Carter - Hayley Atwell
James Barnes - Henry Cavill (based on his roles, I feel like he can play a darker version of Bucky better than Sebastian Stan, and I don't want Bucky to be the fun-loving jokey quipster the MCU turned him into. I honestly think if you could believably play Luke Skywalker, you shouldn't be playing a character like winter soldier. That's just me, if you prefer to imagine Stan, that's fine).