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Had Steve Rogers been a lesser man, he would've hit something. Instead, he simply glared frustratedly as the showgirls put on a performance for the catcalling soldiers. Steve's frustration wasn't directed at the men; he understood their reaction and sympathized with it. They were out here risking their necks, and then some nobody from Brooklyn, who has never seen a day in the field, comes in and expects them to respect him as the face of this whole damn war.
This was what frustrated Steve: he never wanted to be the representation of the American way. That wasn't what he had signed up for. He had signed up to protect the little guys, stand up to the bullies, to keep the country he loved safe. And gosh, it wasn't like Steve didn't realize that what he was doing was… important in some way, it was just…
Steve sighed, rubbing the bridge of his nose. That mask really chafed sometimes.
It took Steve a couple seconds to notice the figure out of the corner of his eye, or at least acknowledge them. Maybe it was due to exhaustion, maybe he was too wrapped up in his own thoughts, maybe he was instinctively trying to ignore the world at the moment, but it wasn't until the figure coughed that Steve finally looked up at them.
It was some kid, not much younger than Steve, ranging anywhere from eighteen to twenty. He wasn't very tall, at least compared to Steve, but he seemed to be developing a fair amount of muscle. At first, Steve assumed that he must've been a common soldier (for want of a better term). A quick look over his uniform however, proved this assumption wrong. He sported a tan army officer's uniform, along with a pair of dark gloves and - strangely enough - a well worn bomber jacket.
The young officer simply stood there, fidgeting restlessly, a bright grin lighting up his face and eyes, which were behind wire framed glasses. The grin was reminiscent of a little kid who was finally meeting his hero - a lot like all those thousands of kids Steve saw and met on his tour throughout the states. To be honest, Steve thought that he looked a little dopey.
“Um, hi." Steve delivered a small wave.
In response, the kid laughed ecstatically. "Holy crap, you're Captain America!"
Steve smiled, allowing himself a short, half-hearted laugh. "Yep. Yeah, that's what people call me."
The kid laughed again. He started to pace back and forth, arms waving excitedly. "Dude, I've been wanting to meet you ever since I heard you existed! I really wanted to see you during your tour of the USA, but I was a little busy being, well, here. So when I heard you were actually coming here… Man, it's so cool that I'm actually meeting you!"
The amount of enthusiasm the kid was displaying must've been contagious, because Steve found his smile becoming more genuine. The smile fell, however, as Steve looked back at the stage. "I think you're the only one who thinks that…" He sighed in resignation. "Not that I blame those guys."
The kid scoffed, waving this away. "Pfft, those guys don't know a good thing when they see it."
"Yeah, well…" Steve shrugged, looking back at the young officer. "…sometimes I wonder just how much good I'm really doing."
"Dude, seriously?" The kid regarded Steve as though he had gone insane. "You are doing crazy amounts of good! Have you seen how happy everyone is back home?!" He paused, as though reconsidering his words. "I mean, I haven't seen it… But I've definitely got a feeling! And you must've seen how happy the people are, going all over the states."
Steve straightened. He didn't say anything, but his intentions were clear enough; he was curious to hear where the kid was going with this.
“I know that the whole point of you going all over the states was to pretty much sponsor the war," the young officer continued. "Sell the bonds, get those weapons, and that's awesome! But it's not just that; you're a walking Uncle Sam! The face of the country! People see you and they see hope!" The kid's enthusiasm dimmed, and in his eyes Steve could see someone much older than the youth standing before him. "God knows we need it."
No sooner had Steve noticed this hidden version of the young officer, it was gone in the blink of an eye as the kid regained his boundless enthusiasm. "But I mean, hey…! could be way worse! The UK's been having a rough time as I've heard it, and they don't have a Captain Britain walking around, do they?"
Steve laughed, shaking his head. "No, I don't think they do."
The kid continued, shaking a fist to emphasize his passion. "You're the USA's new hope, man. You've punched Hitler in the face more than eighty times, and that's enough to give any American worth his Stars and Stripes the confidence to know that we can end this war."
Steve sighed, looking back at the stage. "That means a lot, kid- sir. It really does. But I still can't shake the feeling that I was made to do a lot more than just sock ol' Adolf on the jaw more than eighty times."
"Well, who knows? Maybe you'll get to sock the real thing. But even if you stick to the stage or go out onto the field, just remember that either way you're still America's hero."
Steve turned to look at the young officer. He still retained that contagious, dopey smile, but his words were sincere. As he stared at him, Steve found himself realizing that there was something very familiar about the kid standing before him. He wasn't sure what it was… but he knew that it could be trusted. He nodded appreciatively. "Thanks, sir."
The kid scoffed good-naturedly, retaining his contagious grin. "Ah, don't call me sir. Makes me sound old. You can call me-"
"Hey!" Both soldiers jumped as the sharp vocals of Colonel Phillips cut into their conversation. The stern-faced colonel stood to the side, looking pointedly at the kid. "I don't know where you're supposed to be, but I know damn well that it ain't here. Now, I've got a really pissed off Brit on the line who's demanding to know where the hell you are."
The young officer groaned. "I'm coming." He took a moment to flag Steve a bright grin. "It was cool meeting you, Captain. Save lives, yeah?" He delivered an easy salute before hurrying over to the colonel's tent.
Steve looked at Colonel Phillips. "Who was that?"
The older man's face remained stony as ever. "That kid is none of your concern, Uncle Sam. Now get back in your pixie boots and go do your duty."
Steve Rogers watched the old soldier walk away. It wasn't until later he realized that he had never gotten the young officer's name