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Gendry Waters had always been a pretty sickly kid. A bout of flu here, an asthma attack there, bit of scarlet and rheumatic fever to lighten things up, it was one hell of a childhood. Not that Gendry begrudged his mother at all for it. An Irish mother left in the lurch with a baby on the way, well, her whole village had scorned the woman. A baby, out of wedlock? Father Pycelle had almost had a coronary, so, she had left. Left for brighter shores, she had taken a ship straight to the lady of liberty herself, and Gendry had grown up knowing her promise. Give me your tired, your poor, Your huddled masses yearning to breathe free, The wretched refuse of your teeming shore. Send these, the homeless, tempest-tossed to me, I lift my lamp beside the golden door!
Not to say that Brooklyn had been easy by any stretch, his mother had done what she could, and was glad that Gendry had taken after his fathers dark hair, though the fair skin was all her. Gendry spent much most of his teenage years dossing around the pokey little flat he and his mother owned, as she spent most of the time working on the TB ward.
For a sickly kid, Gendry spent enough of his time getting into fights. Fortunately for his small stature, he wasn’t the only teenager in the building. Jon ‘Snow’ Targaryen lived two flats down. Another guy who had a dad with a sketchy past and Gendry knew better than to ask about his mother. Never been in the picture as far as he knew.
Sadly, it took less time than one would like for these two young men to be alone in the world. Gendrys mother passing from a hit of tuberculosis, and Jon’s father to clear off for some reason or other. Again, Gendry knew better than to ask. They took up shop in Gendrys flat, his mother had put a large downpayment when she first arrived in the country, all the money she had brought with her, in fact. The landlord was always a little sweet on her, and had known both boys since they were little. One of the smallest flats in the building didn’t seem much, as long as they kept up with the rent for the most part.
A little bit of good will could go a long way, especially back then.
It could have been a quiet life. Could have been, but it wasn’t. Gendry was reckless with his sense of right and wrong, and in the streets of Brooklyn, well, there was always a fight to be had. And then the war came.
There was the first attempt to enlist.
Then the second.
Quickly followed the eighth.
And the ninth.
And then Snow signed up, and there was only one attempt needed.
“C’mon Gen, there’s that expo tonight, figured, before we send me off to punch some Nazi bastards, we could take some girls for a dance.”
“Right. And what kinda dame is lining up to dance with a guy they’re just as likely to step on? Forget it, Snow.”
But Gendry went, he knew better than to stand up a lass just because Snow hadn’t decided it was important to share that the friend he had in mind weighed less than the girl in question.
It took less than half an hour for his date to express her disappointment, Gendry could tell. He wasn’t annoyed, he wasn’t even upset, he had better things to worry about. Besides which, there was an enlistment booth. Eleventh time lucky, Gendry supposed.
“Come on you’re kinda missing the point of a double date, we’re gonna take the girls dancing!”
Snow. Of course, Gendry had never questioned his ability to show up exactly in the right alley when he was needed in a fight. His ability to find out when Gendry was up to something was uncanny.
“You go ahead, I’ll catch up with you.”
“You’re really gonna do this again?” Snow sighed, eyebrows raising at his shorter companion.
“Well it’s a fair, I’m gonna try my luck.”
“As who? Gendry from Ohio? They’ll catch you, or worse, they’ll actually take you.”
“Look I know you don’t think I can do this but-“ And as quick as the protests of ability started, Jon ‘Snow’ Targaryen cut him off in his stern, ‘I know better’, tone.
“This isn’t a back alley Gen, this is war.”
“I know it’s a war-“
“Why are you so keen to fight? There are so many important jobs-“
“What do you want me to do? Collect scrap metal in my little red wagon?”
“Yes! Why not?”
“I’m not gonna sit in a factory, Snow. Snow! Come on, there are men laying down their lives, I got no right to do any less than them. That’s what you don’t understand. This isn’t about me.” Gendry sighed, laying out the bottom line for his friend. He wasn’t going to stop trying, he had no right to opt out of the war, and for what? A little asthma and some skinny bones?
“Right. Cause you got nothing to prove?”
Luckily, the two dames showed back up, asking for ‘sarge’ to come take them dancing, and Gendry slipped back with a new enlistment form with a new area code written on. He specifically didn’t use Ohio.
There were few people to see the metal behind Gendry’s soft blue eyes, or to see the man that stood in the small body presented, but Dr Lewin was one of those few.
“Maybe, what we need now is a little guy.”
“Gentlemen, my name is Agent Stark. I will be supervising your induction today. To begin with, I shall need you to complete this document.”
“Whats with the accent Queen Victoria? I thought I was signing up for the US army?”
“What’s your name, soldier?”
“Ramsay Bolton, your majesty.”
“Stop forward, Bolton.”
“Are we gonna rassle? Cause I got some moves I know you’ll like…”
And with that, Arya Stark punched him square in the nose, and Gendry realised that she was the most beautiful dame he had ever seen, he of course had no idea it was ‘cousin Arya’ that Snow had mentioned from his few childhood trips back to England, all he saw was an impressive dame with a damn good right hook. If Boltons face was anything to go by, that was.
There was one soldier in the programme who stopped to think before he acted. Dr Lewin already favoured him, even if Colonel Greatjon was opposed to the sickly man being on an army base at all. He stood out to Arya, too. After all, the only person to jump on that grenade, was Waters.
“This is why you were chosen. A strong man, he might lose respect for the power if he has had it all his life. But a weak man knows the value of strength...and compassion.”
There was a silence hanging in the car that Gendry wasn’t sure if he should fill. He never was good at talking to women. “I know this neighborhood. I got beat up in that alley...and that vacant lot...and behind that diner.”
“Did you have something against running away?” Arya seemed amused, raising a single eyebrow at the man as he spoke.
“You start running, they’ll never let you stop. You stand up, you push back...they can only tell you “no” for so long, right?”
“I know a bit what that’s like. To have every door shut in your face.”
“I don’t know why such a beautiful dame would want to join the army anyhow.” Arya’s eyes could cut even the toughest of steel in that moment. “I mean, Agent, uh- Woman, I mean, you are beautiful but I mean-”
“You don’t know an awful lot about women, do you?”
“This is probably the longest conversation I’ve ever had with one. Women aren’t exactly lining up to dance with a guy they might step on.” Gendry replied wryly, dropping his attempt at charm. After all, he’d already messed up once. She was an Agent, Gendry figured he should talk to her like one.
“You must have at least danced.” Well, so much for trying.
“Asking a girl to dance seemed so terrifying, and then in the last few years it didn’t seem so important. I figure I might as well wait.”
“For what?”
“The right partner.”
The serum worked, Dr Lewin died, and the Greatjon benched him. The day that changed Gendry changed a lot of things. He never dreamed he would end up going from stage to stage, singing the praises of bonds.
He never thought he’d be wearing tights. Or that he’d be a captain.
Snow. Snow was gone, so was half of the 107th. And that was all the information Gendry needed. Agent Stark helped, obviously, and with the help of the best technical mind in the business, Theon Greyjoy, they managed to drop him right by the factory where they were being held. He wasn’t sure how he felt about Agent Stark and Greyjoy, and his invitation to fondue (whatever that was?) but there were more important things on his mind right now.
It seemed he had only just got Snow back before they were planning their next excursion into enemy territory. The rest of the Howling Commandos were easily convinced, but Snow, he’d clearly been through more than the rest.
“What about you? You gonna follow Captain America into the jaws of death?”
“Hell no. That little guy from Brooklyn who was too dumb to run away from a fight? I’m following him.”
Well. Snow always had.
“Captain.” Gendry knew that voice, he just wasn’t expecting her here.
“Agent Stark.”
“Ma’am.” Snow nodded with a insolent smirk at calling his younger cousin anything other than Arya, or squirt.
“Greyjoy’s got some equipment for you to try. Tomorrow morning?” Arya said, stubbornly not making eye contact with Jon. She’d had their reunion behind closed doors. She was a professional agent, after all.
“That sounds fine.”
“I see your crack squad is prepping for duty.” She smirked as the rest of the men resumed singing, quite terribly.
“You don’t like music?” Gendry asked, a smirk of his own finding its way onto his features.
“I do, actually. I may even, when this is all over, go dancing.”
“Since when do you dance Ary-” With the swiftest elbow to the ribs Gendry had seen, Snow was rendered silent.
“I’m just waiting for the right partner.” She said with a faux-innocent smile as she started walking out of the bar. “08:00, Captain.”
“Yes ma’am. I’ll be there.”
Snow looked up, raising both eyebrows at him, mischief dancing behind his eyes. “What the hell was that? You sweet on my cousin, Waters?”
“She’s ‘cousin Arya’!?”
He hadn’t meant to kiss her. The dame sitting outside Greyjoys office. They were just talking, and he still had no idea how to talk to women, it just happened.
“Captain. We’re ready for you. If you aren’t otherwise occupied.”
“Agent Stark, wait!” He tore off after her without a second thought to the woman he was leaving behind.
“Looks like finding a partner wasn’t that hard after all.”
“Arya… that wasn’t what you thought it was.”
“I don’t think anything Captain. Not one thing. You always wanted to be a soldier, now you are one. Just like all the rest.”
“What about you and Greyjoy, how do I know you haven’t been… fondue-ing?”
“You still don’t know a bloody thing about women.”
Gendry was pretty sure that Arya had cooled off after firing four rounds at his prototype shield, but then again, she really was right. He didn’t know a bloody thing about women.
There was a train in the alps. And there, Snow fell.
There were no words for the grief and anger that came over Gendry, and he swore to go after Schmidt.
Shit hit the fan after that. Gendry fought, and fought some more, and he found himself in a car with Arya as they chased after Schmidt’s plane.
Gendry was almost ready to jump.
“Wait!” Arya’s lips were on his before he had a chance to process. He kissed back, but all too soon she’d pulled back. It was better than any battle kiss had the right to be.
Bewildered, he looked to Colonel Greatjon.
“Well I’m not kissin ya!”
With that, he jumped.
There was no way this plane was going to New York. He had to bring it down. A lot of people were going to get hurt if he didn’t.
“Arya, this is my choice.”
“We’ll send out rescue ships. We’ll find you.”
“I don’t think there’s going to be much left to find.”
“Arya?”
“I’m here.”
“I’m going to need a raincheck on that dance.”
“All right. A week Saturday. The Stork Club.”
“Okay. You got it.”
“8:00 on the dot. If you’re three minutes late I’m leaving, do you understand?”
“I still don’t know how to dance.”
“I’ll show you. I’ll show you everything. Just be there”
“Maybe the band could play something slow, I’d hate to step on your-“
Gendry awoke seventy years later, there was a new world waiting for him, but he would give just about anything to have spent those seventy years with Snow and Agent Stark.