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Die A Hero Or Live Long Enough to Become A Villain (failed escape/“I’ll be right behind you”)
***
If there’s one thing that Steve Rogers doesn’t like, it’s bullies.
They’re everywhere in the world. As someone who’s spent the majority of his eighteen years at the hands of said bullies, Steve would know. From kids at the schoolyard to the men in the workplace to strangers passing by on the street—there will always be those who find their fun in hurting others, who find power being in control. It’s impossible to avoid the evil that exists throughout the world.
Because he knows what it’s like to be on the receiving end of someone else’s insecurities that manifest in hurting others who are weaker or considered “beneath them,” Steve has more or less taken it upon himself to do whatever he can to ensure that any bully he crosses has their ego taken down a notch or two. Some people might call such actions heroic, but Steve thinks of it as simply being a decent person. Too many people are content to sit back and watch others get hurt, unwilling to step in because it’s inconvenient to them. The thing is, nothing will ever change if no one does anything about it.
Of course, it can be a bit difficult to intimidate anyone when you’re barely ninety pounds with a mile-long list of health problems. But that’s beside the point—because none of his conditions are going to stop him from doing the right thing.
So when Steve is walking to meet Bucky after work one evening and hears elevated voices near one of the alleys across the street, he can’t help but glance over to see what’s happening.
He sees a young couple standing face to face, and neither looks happy. Upon closer examination, he recognizes the young teenage girl as Mary Anderson, an old schoolmate whose parents are the owners of the small supermarket he frequents—his ma had been good friends with Mrs. Anderson.
Steve quickly veers across the street, narrowly avoiding getting run over by traffic. As he nears Mary and the unfamiliar man, he overhears their conversation—or rather, argument.
“Please, Tom, just go,” Mary begs, her auburn curls bouncing as she shakes her head emphatically. She tries to move past the man, but he steps in front of her to block her path. “I have work to do.”
“No!” The shout is loud, angry. “We’re talking about this.”
Mary shrinks back in fear. “Tom, I told you—”
“Just stop,” the man—Tom—growls, “and listen to me for a second.” He grabs the girl by the shoulders and shakes her roughly.
That’s all Steve needs to see before he darts forward, planting himself in front of Mary, who lets out a small gasp of surprise at his sudden appearance. “Hey!” he says, trying to sound as firm and assertive as possible. “She said she wanted you to leave. So back off.”
Tom’s eyes narrow, a sneer forming on his face as he glares down at Steve. “How about you back off, pal. This is between me and the girl.”
Steve seethes. “Sorry, but I don’t take too kindly to any man who can’t treat a lady right. Just leave her alone.”
“Make me.”
Mary takes a timid step forward, hand coming to wrap around Steve’s arm. “Steve, let’s just go—”
An expression of rage crosses over Tom’s face—which has Steve realizing that this Tom guy is the jealous type, and maybe that explains a lot—and he promptly brings his fist back before slamming it straight at Steve’s face.
There’s barely any time to dodge, and the blows lands on Steve’s jaw, sending him reeling backward, arms pinwheeling to keep himself upright. Tom throws another punch, and it doesn’t seem like he’s ready to quit any time soon.
So Steve fights back. Unfortunately, this Tom fellow is about twice Steve’s size with muscles to match. Their exchange of fists takes them further into the alley. Mary follows them, shouting and crying, begging Tom to stop.
Steve hits the ground hard, the wind knocked out of him. Tom kicks him in the ribs when he tries to get up, adding insult to injury.
“Stop, stop it!” Mary cries, moving closer to the fray.
Tom whirls around.
Steve can’t let the guy get near her—who knows what he’d do in this state. His jaw and ribs are throbbing, and there’s blood dripping from his nose, but he manages to pull himself up off the ground and lunge at Tom, drawing his opponent’s attention.
“Go!” Steve yells at Mary as Tom easily plucks him off his back and shoves him into the wall. “I’ll be right behind you!”
He barely catches the fearful look in the girl’s eyes as she takes off. He knows he needs to end this fight soon. He’s not one to give up easily, but he is well aware of when he’s fighting a losing battle—which, yeah, is usually most of them. It’s probably time to make his own escape. If there’s one positive thing about being small, it’s that he can easily slip away when necessary.
However, before he can duck away, Tom’s big hand wraps around his shirt front, and he’s slammed into the wall again. This time, the back of his head collides with the bricks. He must black out for a second, because when he opens his eyes, he’s back on the ground, and the world around him is spinning in circles.
Tom is hovering above him, fist drawn back. He’s saying something, but the words are muffled in Steve’s ringing ears. Steve braces himself for another hit.
It never comes.
There’s a sudden commotion above him, a flurry of movements and shouts, followed by silence.
Then, “Steve?”
Even in his haze, Steve recognizes that voice. He squints, the figure over him slowly taking shape. “Buck—Bucky?”
Relief crosses his best friend’s face. “Hey, pal. You okay?”
“I’m fine.” Steve grimaces, letting Bucky help him sit up in the alley. Tom is nowhere in sight.
Bucky snorts. “You sure? Because you don’t look it.”
Steve lifts a hand to gingerly prod at the back of his head. It’s tender to the touch and there’s a big lump already forming there, but it could be worse. “Mary?” he asks breathlessly.
“A little rattled, but she’s all right—thanks to you, I hear. Came get me after you told her to run.” Bucky gently braces his hands on either side of Steve’s face, tilting his head forward to examine the injury himself. “She’s getting some supplies to take care of your face—it’s a little busted up, in case you didn’t realize.”
Steve manages a shrug. “Not like it would be the first time.”
“Steve, you can’t keep doing this.”
“I wasn’t going to let the guy hurt her.”
Bucky sighs, moving one hand to rub over his face. “Okay, so you tell him to back off and then you both book it—I don’t see the problem.”
“I was trying to,” Steve mutters. “And it’s not that easy.”
“Well, I think we’ll file that one under ‘failed escape.’” Bucky rolls his eyes, but Steve is an expert at reading his best friend, and there’s clear concern underneath the sarcasm. "Seriously, though, you know that one of these days I'm not going to be around to back you up when you need it—and then what?"
Steve huffs. He wants to protest that he'll be fine and he can take care of himself, but he's not blind to his size—or lack thereof. "I can handle myself, Buck," he says anyway. "Somebody's gotta stand up for the little guy."
"Steve—you are the little guy." Bucky shakes his head. "Listen, you know they say that you either die a hero or live long enough to see yourself become a villain. I don't fancy you turnin' into some evil mastermind, but I reckon it's a far sight better than the alternative."
Steve snorts out a laugh despite the way it causes an echo of the pounding in the back of his head. “Sorry to…disappoint, but I don’t see myself ever turning into a villain.” Though he does hope that the first part of that saying isn’t true—but if it’s for the right cause, well…he’ll do what needs to be done.
Bucky snorts again. “Yeah, me either. You’re the definition of ‘doing the right thing’—no matter what.”
A smile turns up the corner of Steve’s mouth. He doesn’t think he deserves such praise, but it’s no use arguing with Bucky Barnes.
Mary reappears suddenly, hands full of supplies and tears in her eyes as she thanks Steve profusely.
He waves away the gratitude, but lets the two of them fuss over his injuries—he’s a little worse off than he normally is after a fight. It was not one of his finest moments, but he did what needed to be done.
Brooklyn bullies beware—Steve Rogers might just be around the corner.