Fic: Something More Important
Mar. 11th, 2012 07:03 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
serafina20Title: Something More Important
Fandom: Captain America
Rating: Mature
Pairing: Steve/Bucky, Steve/Peggy
Summary: Steve Rogers is determined to join the Army and go off to war. Bucky is concerned what will happen if she's discovered. rule!63 Steve.
Part 1a
Part 1b
Part 2
Part 3 & 4
Part 5
The World Exposition is everything that it’s been advertised and more. There are cars and planes and trains of the future. There are models for personal flight devices. There’s lights and colors and sounds and food.
It’s almost overwhelming. But Steve holds it together as he trails after Bucky and the girls.
Her so-called date, Connie, barely gave her a second look. She was visibly disappointed when Bucky had introduced them. Ever since, she’s been gripping her friend’s hand tightly as she, Bonnie, and Bucky making a snaking chain around the fair. Steve trails behind, eating popcorn and absorbing all the sights and sounds. Her fingers are itching to capture some of the things she sees--some of them so she never forgets, some of them because she can imagine them better--but she hasn’t brought her sketchbook. Plus, she’s on a date, even if her date doesn’t seem to know she exists.
“It’s starting!” Bonnie squeals. She and Connie start rushing towards the stage Howard Stark’s going to be presenting on.
“Golly, he’s even more handsome in person,” Connie sighs.
Steve rolls her eyes and shakes the bag of popcorn. Connie’s been peppering them all with facts about Howard Stark, when she can get a word in through Bonnie’s incessant flirting with Bucky. Connie knew Stark’s most recent invention, the famous dames he’s dated, even his favorite color. It’s both creepy and insulting, since Steve’s standing right there and she doubts that Connie even remembers her name.
This was not how she planned to spend Bucky’s last night. She’d hoped they’d spend it together. Alone. Talking and laughing and sharing stories. She’d draw pictures of home for him to take overseas, and he’d tease her for getting smudges on her face. They’d talk about old times and what they’d do when he came back (because he was coming back). They’d fall asleep early in the morning. Drink coffee on the fire escape, and then Steve would go with Bucky to the recruitment center. Say goodbye.
She sighs. Offers some popcorn to Connie and is rebuffed. Eats some herself. Looks around.
Her breath catches.
There’s a recruitment center.
Every center she’s gone to has been busy. The army needs so many men, it was no wonder. But. This was even busier than normal. So many people at the fair. And the atmosphere was fast and frenetic. So many men streaming in, so many to process.
She’ll anything the doctors weren’t being as thorough as they could. They might let someone slip by.
Maybe she could be off to basic training tomorrow morning, and then with Bucky before too long.
Bucky’s not paying attention, and the girls don’t even know she’s there. Steve’s in front of the recruitment center without anyone realizing he’s done.
“Come on, you’re kind of missing the point of a double date.”
Okay, so Bucky notices. It makes Steve feel warm, Bucky seeing she’s gone after only a few minutes, but she can’t let that deter her. Not that, nor the annoyed look on Bucky’s face.
“We’re taking the girls dancing.”
That’ll be fun. She’s got two left feet and is a head shorter than her so called date. “You go ahead. I’ll catch up with you.”
Bucky tightens his jaw. Looks past her at the people streaming in and out of the recruitment center. “You’re really going to do this?”
“Well, it’s a fair.” She smiles. “I thought I’d try my luck.”
The joke falls flat. Bucky looks like he’s ready to hit her. “As, who, Steve from Ohio? They’ll catch, worse, they’ll actually take you.”
She knows he’s scared. That he’s worried about what will happen to her, but she’s so, so tired of it. tired of being taken care of, tired of trying to explain it. Tired of being rejected. “Look, I know you don’t think I can do this…”
“This isn’t a back alley, Steve, it’s a war.”
“I know it’s a war!”
“Why are you so keen to fight? There are so many important jobs…”
Oh, she was so sick of hearing that! “What am I going to do?” she shouted. She can feel her face getting red, her heart pounding. “Collect scraps in my little red wagon?”
“Yes!” he shouts back, stepping closer so he’s in her face.
She pushes him back. “I’m not going to sit in a factory, Bucky.” He starts to turn away, so she yanks him back. “Bucky!”
He stops. Turns back with that stubborn punk look on his face. He’ll stand there, but he won’t listen to her.
She has to make him listen. “There are men laying down their lives. I got no right to do any less than them.” She tightens her grip on his coat, then lets it go. Steps back. “That’s what you don’t understand. This isn’t about me.”
He shakes his head. “Right. Because you’ve got nothing to prove.”
“Hey, Sarge!” Bucky’s girl is a few feet away, all bouncing curls and pink cheeks. She’s waving him over. Waving him away. “We going to dancing?”
Something in Bucky’s face changes. He looks down at Steve, and he looks… sad. There’s a kind of longing in his face, something fierce and almost hungry.
Her breath catches. Her face is hot. Her hands are numb and sweaty and she’s lightheaded and she doesn’t understand why.
Then he turns to the girl. “Yes, we are,” he practically sings to her. When he turns back, there’s a mask on his face. The expression from before is gone. “Don’t do anything stupid until I get back.”
The tension in her breaks. She smiles. “How can I? You’re taking all the stupid with you.”
“You’re a punk.”
“Jerk.”
He envelops her in a hug. Holds her tight, giving her a moment to breathe him in, memorize everything about him.
Then Bucky steps back.
“Be careful. Don’t win the war until I get there.”
Bucky straightens his shoulder. Salutes her smartly. She can see a brightness in his eyes for a moment. Then he turns and walks away.
She watches until he’s swallowed by the crowd, an ache in her throat. Then, she takes a deep breath and goes into the center.
***
His eyes burn and his heart aches. In the center of the whirlwind of people and lights and technology, all he sees is Steve’s face right before he turned away. Her expression: sad, proud, lonely, determined. Everything good about her in that one expression. Exactly like he wants to remember her.
It’s for the best, he assures himself while he laughs and dances and plays nice with Bonnie. Steve won’t get in, not tonight, not ever. She’ll stay in New York. Work for the war effort in some other way. Eventually she’ll meet someone who sees how perfect she is. They’ll fall in love and get married and all that. When Bucky comes back, if he comes back, he’ll find Stevie safe and alive and living the life he always wanted for her.
She’ll be happy. And Bucky will…
Well. That doesn’t matter as much. It never really has.
***
The recruitment center is a whirlwind of sounds and people. So many men streaming in, signing up. A lot of them are underage, and, like Steve, trying their luck on a busy night. Others come in with dames hanging on their arms, flushed and giggling, thrilled at the idea of becoming a hero in front of a pretty girl’s eyes.
There was a feeling here that had been absent from the other recruitment centers. An almost palpable excitement. A joy. Like they didn’t realize that this wasn’t some adventure. It wasn’t going to be something fun. This was war. It was the opposite of fun.
Still, Steve know she shouldn’t judge. She has her reasons for wanting to go, they have theirs. And, it’s hard not to be excited. The whole purpose of the fair was to get you excited about the future. Well. This was the future.
The doctor checks her over almost perfunctorily. Ears, eyes, throat, reflexes. He doesn’t ask many questions, just moves as quickly as he can.
She tries not to get excited. Too hopeful. Even a doctor going fast will see her blood pressure shoot up or hands start to tremble.
“Okay, you can button up your shirt,” the doctor says, pulling his stethoscope away from her chest. He picks up the clipboard and starts scribbling when a nurse steps in.
She walks to the doctor and whispers in his ear.
The doctor nods. He glances at Steve and says, “Wait here.”
Her chest tightens. “Is there a problem?”
“Just wait here.” He leaves.
She can feel a panic attack coming on, all of Bucky’s fears for her crashing over her. Her hands tighten on the examination table. She takes a deep breath. Thinks of her dad. Of the great heroes that came before her. Of the brave men and women willing to die for what they believed in.
Her heart slows downs. Another deep breath, and she hops off the table and begins to put on her shoes.
The flap of the examination room opens and an MP steps in.
Oh, darn.
And then, another doctor walks in. He looks at the MP and adjusts his glasses. “Thank you.”
The MP leaves, closing the curtains behind him.
For a moment, the doctor just looks at her. Right into her eyes, and that moment stretches on forever, even though it’s just a heartbeat. When he looks down at the file, Steve feels raw. Discombobulated, like he’d just rifled through her soul.
“So,” he says, opening the file folder, “you want to go overseas and kill some Nazis.”
She’s not expecting the words or the heavy German accent that accompanies them. The starkness of his phrasing startles her more than the accent. Not that she doesn’t know war’s about killing, but it’s not like she’s looking forward to it.
She doesn’t know how to answer. “Excuse me?”
He moves closer and holds out a hand. “Dr. Abraham Erskine. I represent the Strategic Scientific Reserve.”
That means less than nothing to her. Maybe it’s a foreign thing, like British Secret Service or something. “Where are you from?”
“Queens. Seventy-third Street and Utopia Parkway.” He reaches up and adjust his glasses, his hand curved, catching shadows. “Before that, Germany.”
Steve nodded, wondering what part of Germany and if he defected and if he’d joined the government before or after the war effort began, and a thousand other questions, including if he’d pose for her, because that second of stillness when he touched his glasses had been almost moving in its elegance and deserved to be immortalized, but while she tries to choose her next question, he must misread her face because he says, “This troubles you?”
She shakes her head. “No.” Because she’s from New York, and everyone is from somewhere, and just because you’re from Germany doesn’t make you a Nazi. A few months ago, she’d gotten a concussion trying to make that point, and Bucky hadn’t helped with his yelling about how she needed to just keep her idealistic principles to herself sometimes.
“Where are you from, Mr. Rogers, hmm?” He looks down at the file he has open on the examination table. “Is it New Haven?”
Her stomach sinks.
“Or Paramus? Five exams in five different cities.”
Her ears fill with the lub-lubbing sound of rushing blood. “That might not be the right file.” How? How did he get that?
“No, it’s not the exams I’m interested in. It’s the five tries.” He closes the file, picks it up, and walks toward her. “But you didn’t answer my question. Do you want to kill Nazis?
That question again. God. Bucky had asked her something similar once, the night after she’d rescued the dog and she couldn’t sleep because of a headache. She hadn’t known how to answer him. She didn’t want to sound like coward, but didn’t want to lie.
She still doesn’t.
“Is this a test?”
Dr. Erskine thinks about it a moment, then nods. “Yes.”
There’s something so earnest in his voice, in his expression. Steve realizes she can’t lie to him. Doesn’t want to lie to him. She wants him to know the truth. If she’s going to be rejected again, she won’t let it be for a lie.
“I don’t want to kill anyone,” she tells him. She hears a note of apology in her voice and it makes her mad. She’s not sorry about this. “I just don’t like bullies. I don’t care where they’re from.”
He gives her that long look again, his gaze rifling through her soul, picking out pieces of her. He looks… pleased. “Well,” he says. “There are already so many big men fighting this war. Maybe now what we need is a little… guy.”
Her hearts skips a beat on the pause. A little what? she wonders, but he says guy, and then he says, “I can offer you a chance. Only a chance.”
Joy rushes through her, making her dizzy. “I’ll take it!”
He turns and walks through the curtains again. “Good.” He leads her to the main desk. “So, where is the little guy from? Actually?”
“Brooklyn,” Steve says. She can’t believe this is happening. She watches him closely, waiting for the punch line, waiting for the world to be pulled out from under her.
He picks up a stamp. Brings it down on the paper. “Congratulations, solider.” Dr. Erskine smiles at her as he hands the file to her.
Her hands shake as she takes it.
IA.
Oh, God. She’s in. She’s finally, finally in!
She looks up to thank Dr. Erskine, to find that he’s already walking away.
“Sir?” a nurse says. “Please go down that hall and take a right. They’ll process your application and give you your orders.”
“My orders,” Steve repeats dumbly. He looks at the nurse. Nods. “Thank you.”
“Congratulations, solider.”
“Thanks. She straightens her shoulders and goes down the hall.
The rest of the night and next day are somewhat of a blur. After she gets her orders, she goes home to pack. Bucky never comes back, but that’s okay. That’s okay, because she’ll be with him overseas. He’s in the 107th, and she’ll tell everyone who will listen that’s where she belongs and she’ll get there.
In the meantime, she has to give her notice at work. Talks with the landlord about the apartment. Cleans out the ice box, cleans up.
And then its time. She goes to the recruitment center. Stands with the dozen other men recruited by the SSR and climbs onto the bus. Onto the future.
A solider at last.
Fandom: Captain America
Rating: Mature
Pairing: Steve/Bucky, Steve/Peggy
Summary: Steve Rogers is determined to join the Army and go off to war. Bucky is concerned what will happen if she's discovered. rule!63 Steve.
Part 1a
Part 1b
Part 2
Part 3 & 4
Part 5
The World Exposition is everything that it’s been advertised and more. There are cars and planes and trains of the future. There are models for personal flight devices. There’s lights and colors and sounds and food.
It’s almost overwhelming. But Steve holds it together as he trails after Bucky and the girls.
Her so-called date, Connie, barely gave her a second look. She was visibly disappointed when Bucky had introduced them. Ever since, she’s been gripping her friend’s hand tightly as she, Bonnie, and Bucky making a snaking chain around the fair. Steve trails behind, eating popcorn and absorbing all the sights and sounds. Her fingers are itching to capture some of the things she sees--some of them so she never forgets, some of them because she can imagine them better--but she hasn’t brought her sketchbook. Plus, she’s on a date, even if her date doesn’t seem to know she exists.
“It’s starting!” Bonnie squeals. She and Connie start rushing towards the stage Howard Stark’s going to be presenting on.
“Golly, he’s even more handsome in person,” Connie sighs.
Steve rolls her eyes and shakes the bag of popcorn. Connie’s been peppering them all with facts about Howard Stark, when she can get a word in through Bonnie’s incessant flirting with Bucky. Connie knew Stark’s most recent invention, the famous dames he’s dated, even his favorite color. It’s both creepy and insulting, since Steve’s standing right there and she doubts that Connie even remembers her name.
This was not how she planned to spend Bucky’s last night. She’d hoped they’d spend it together. Alone. Talking and laughing and sharing stories. She’d draw pictures of home for him to take overseas, and he’d tease her for getting smudges on her face. They’d talk about old times and what they’d do when he came back (because he was coming back). They’d fall asleep early in the morning. Drink coffee on the fire escape, and then Steve would go with Bucky to the recruitment center. Say goodbye.
She sighs. Offers some popcorn to Connie and is rebuffed. Eats some herself. Looks around.
Her breath catches.
There’s a recruitment center.
Every center she’s gone to has been busy. The army needs so many men, it was no wonder. But. This was even busier than normal. So many people at the fair. And the atmosphere was fast and frenetic. So many men streaming in, so many to process.
She’ll anything the doctors weren’t being as thorough as they could. They might let someone slip by.
Maybe she could be off to basic training tomorrow morning, and then with Bucky before too long.
Bucky’s not paying attention, and the girls don’t even know she’s there. Steve’s in front of the recruitment center without anyone realizing he’s done.
“Come on, you’re kind of missing the point of a double date.”
Okay, so Bucky notices. It makes Steve feel warm, Bucky seeing she’s gone after only a few minutes, but she can’t let that deter her. Not that, nor the annoyed look on Bucky’s face.
“We’re taking the girls dancing.”
That’ll be fun. She’s got two left feet and is a head shorter than her so called date. “You go ahead. I’ll catch up with you.”
Bucky tightens his jaw. Looks past her at the people streaming in and out of the recruitment center. “You’re really going to do this?”
“Well, it’s a fair.” She smiles. “I thought I’d try my luck.”
The joke falls flat. Bucky looks like he’s ready to hit her. “As, who, Steve from Ohio? They’ll catch, worse, they’ll actually take you.”
She knows he’s scared. That he’s worried about what will happen to her, but she’s so, so tired of it. tired of being taken care of, tired of trying to explain it. Tired of being rejected. “Look, I know you don’t think I can do this…”
“This isn’t a back alley, Steve, it’s a war.”
“I know it’s a war!”
“Why are you so keen to fight? There are so many important jobs…”
Oh, she was so sick of hearing that! “What am I going to do?” she shouted. She can feel her face getting red, her heart pounding. “Collect scraps in my little red wagon?”
“Yes!” he shouts back, stepping closer so he’s in her face.
She pushes him back. “I’m not going to sit in a factory, Bucky.” He starts to turn away, so she yanks him back. “Bucky!”
He stops. Turns back with that stubborn punk look on his face. He’ll stand there, but he won’t listen to her.
She has to make him listen. “There are men laying down their lives. I got no right to do any less than them.” She tightens her grip on his coat, then lets it go. Steps back. “That’s what you don’t understand. This isn’t about me.”
He shakes his head. “Right. Because you’ve got nothing to prove.”
“Hey, Sarge!” Bucky’s girl is a few feet away, all bouncing curls and pink cheeks. She’s waving him over. Waving him away. “We going to dancing?”
Something in Bucky’s face changes. He looks down at Steve, and he looks… sad. There’s a kind of longing in his face, something fierce and almost hungry.
Her breath catches. Her face is hot. Her hands are numb and sweaty and she’s lightheaded and she doesn’t understand why.
Then he turns to the girl. “Yes, we are,” he practically sings to her. When he turns back, there’s a mask on his face. The expression from before is gone. “Don’t do anything stupid until I get back.”
The tension in her breaks. She smiles. “How can I? You’re taking all the stupid with you.”
“You’re a punk.”
“Jerk.”
He envelops her in a hug. Holds her tight, giving her a moment to breathe him in, memorize everything about him.
Then Bucky steps back.
“Be careful. Don’t win the war until I get there.”
Bucky straightens his shoulder. Salutes her smartly. She can see a brightness in his eyes for a moment. Then he turns and walks away.
She watches until he’s swallowed by the crowd, an ache in her throat. Then, she takes a deep breath and goes into the center.
***
His eyes burn and his heart aches. In the center of the whirlwind of people and lights and technology, all he sees is Steve’s face right before he turned away. Her expression: sad, proud, lonely, determined. Everything good about her in that one expression. Exactly like he wants to remember her.
It’s for the best, he assures himself while he laughs and dances and plays nice with Bonnie. Steve won’t get in, not tonight, not ever. She’ll stay in New York. Work for the war effort in some other way. Eventually she’ll meet someone who sees how perfect she is. They’ll fall in love and get married and all that. When Bucky comes back, if he comes back, he’ll find Stevie safe and alive and living the life he always wanted for her.
She’ll be happy. And Bucky will…
Well. That doesn’t matter as much. It never really has.
***
The recruitment center is a whirlwind of sounds and people. So many men streaming in, signing up. A lot of them are underage, and, like Steve, trying their luck on a busy night. Others come in with dames hanging on their arms, flushed and giggling, thrilled at the idea of becoming a hero in front of a pretty girl’s eyes.
There was a feeling here that had been absent from the other recruitment centers. An almost palpable excitement. A joy. Like they didn’t realize that this wasn’t some adventure. It wasn’t going to be something fun. This was war. It was the opposite of fun.
Still, Steve know she shouldn’t judge. She has her reasons for wanting to go, they have theirs. And, it’s hard not to be excited. The whole purpose of the fair was to get you excited about the future. Well. This was the future.
The doctor checks her over almost perfunctorily. Ears, eyes, throat, reflexes. He doesn’t ask many questions, just moves as quickly as he can.
She tries not to get excited. Too hopeful. Even a doctor going fast will see her blood pressure shoot up or hands start to tremble.
“Okay, you can button up your shirt,” the doctor says, pulling his stethoscope away from her chest. He picks up the clipboard and starts scribbling when a nurse steps in.
She walks to the doctor and whispers in his ear.
The doctor nods. He glances at Steve and says, “Wait here.”
Her chest tightens. “Is there a problem?”
“Just wait here.” He leaves.
She can feel a panic attack coming on, all of Bucky’s fears for her crashing over her. Her hands tighten on the examination table. She takes a deep breath. Thinks of her dad. Of the great heroes that came before her. Of the brave men and women willing to die for what they believed in.
Her heart slows downs. Another deep breath, and she hops off the table and begins to put on her shoes.
The flap of the examination room opens and an MP steps in.
Oh, darn.
And then, another doctor walks in. He looks at the MP and adjusts his glasses. “Thank you.”
The MP leaves, closing the curtains behind him.
For a moment, the doctor just looks at her. Right into her eyes, and that moment stretches on forever, even though it’s just a heartbeat. When he looks down at the file, Steve feels raw. Discombobulated, like he’d just rifled through her soul.
“So,” he says, opening the file folder, “you want to go overseas and kill some Nazis.”
She’s not expecting the words or the heavy German accent that accompanies them. The starkness of his phrasing startles her more than the accent. Not that she doesn’t know war’s about killing, but it’s not like she’s looking forward to it.
She doesn’t know how to answer. “Excuse me?”
He moves closer and holds out a hand. “Dr. Abraham Erskine. I represent the Strategic Scientific Reserve.”
That means less than nothing to her. Maybe it’s a foreign thing, like British Secret Service or something. “Where are you from?”
“Queens. Seventy-third Street and Utopia Parkway.” He reaches up and adjust his glasses, his hand curved, catching shadows. “Before that, Germany.”
Steve nodded, wondering what part of Germany and if he defected and if he’d joined the government before or after the war effort began, and a thousand other questions, including if he’d pose for her, because that second of stillness when he touched his glasses had been almost moving in its elegance and deserved to be immortalized, but while she tries to choose her next question, he must misread her face because he says, “This troubles you?”
She shakes her head. “No.” Because she’s from New York, and everyone is from somewhere, and just because you’re from Germany doesn’t make you a Nazi. A few months ago, she’d gotten a concussion trying to make that point, and Bucky hadn’t helped with his yelling about how she needed to just keep her idealistic principles to herself sometimes.
“Where are you from, Mr. Rogers, hmm?” He looks down at the file he has open on the examination table. “Is it New Haven?”
Her stomach sinks.
“Or Paramus? Five exams in five different cities.”
Her ears fill with the lub-lubbing sound of rushing blood. “That might not be the right file.” How? How did he get that?
“No, it’s not the exams I’m interested in. It’s the five tries.” He closes the file, picks it up, and walks toward her. “But you didn’t answer my question. Do you want to kill Nazis?
That question again. God. Bucky had asked her something similar once, the night after she’d rescued the dog and she couldn’t sleep because of a headache. She hadn’t known how to answer him. She didn’t want to sound like coward, but didn’t want to lie.
She still doesn’t.
“Is this a test?”
Dr. Erskine thinks about it a moment, then nods. “Yes.”
There’s something so earnest in his voice, in his expression. Steve realizes she can’t lie to him. Doesn’t want to lie to him. She wants him to know the truth. If she’s going to be rejected again, she won’t let it be for a lie.
“I don’t want to kill anyone,” she tells him. She hears a note of apology in her voice and it makes her mad. She’s not sorry about this. “I just don’t like bullies. I don’t care where they’re from.”
He gives her that long look again, his gaze rifling through her soul, picking out pieces of her. He looks… pleased. “Well,” he says. “There are already so many big men fighting this war. Maybe now what we need is a little… guy.”
Her hearts skips a beat on the pause. A little what? she wonders, but he says guy, and then he says, “I can offer you a chance. Only a chance.”
Joy rushes through her, making her dizzy. “I’ll take it!”
He turns and walks through the curtains again. “Good.” He leads her to the main desk. “So, where is the little guy from? Actually?”
“Brooklyn,” Steve says. She can’t believe this is happening. She watches him closely, waiting for the punch line, waiting for the world to be pulled out from under her.
He picks up a stamp. Brings it down on the paper. “Congratulations, solider.” Dr. Erskine smiles at her as he hands the file to her.
Her hands shake as she takes it.
IA.
Oh, God. She’s in. She’s finally, finally in!
She looks up to thank Dr. Erskine, to find that he’s already walking away.
“Sir?” a nurse says. “Please go down that hall and take a right. They’ll process your application and give you your orders.”
“My orders,” Steve repeats dumbly. He looks at the nurse. Nods. “Thank you.”
“Congratulations, solider.”
“Thanks. She straightens her shoulders and goes down the hall.
The rest of the night and next day are somewhat of a blur. After she gets her orders, she goes home to pack. Bucky never comes back, but that’s okay. That’s okay, because she’ll be with him overseas. He’s in the 107th, and she’ll tell everyone who will listen that’s where she belongs and she’ll get there.
In the meantime, she has to give her notice at work. Talks with the landlord about the apartment. Cleans out the ice box, cleans up.
And then its time. She goes to the recruitment center. Stands with the dozen other men recruited by the SSR and climbs onto the bus. Onto the future.
A solider at last.
