Path to Protection (BuckyBarnes x OC)

Street Rat

    New York, 1943

    "And stay out, you pest!"

    The man's rough hands shoved me through the back door of a local diner. Before I could even turn to apologize, he had already slammed the door in my face, leaving me on the cold, damp pavement in a dark alley. New York used to be nicer, but, with that bloody war drifting our way, people had to take care of themselves first.

    The light from the street lamp only reached halfway to my feet before fading quickly to dark, which was good—at least, I didn't have to see my bare feet. The shoes I found in the dumpster last month didn't last long, but, then again, used things never did. I was lucky to find a pair that fit me at all.

    I straightened and brushed the dust off my rags. Being an alley rat since I lost my mother at fifteen, I picked up some things along the way, but I still hadn't gotten used to being unable to shower. I missed the feeling of warm water cleaning my rough and dirt-covered skin, instead of the chilling rainwater. That also happened to be the reason why I was trying to sneak in the diner's bathroom to freshen up in the first place. If only the service was kinder to people without a proper roof over their heads.

    However, as dusk was approaching, it was time to go look for a place to sleep for the night. I'd found a nice cardboard box a couple of weeks ago while dumpster diving and managed to make a little home for myself. The box, accompanied by blankets and trashed pillows, albeit ripped, was a pleasant change from a sweater stuffed into a pillow mattress and comfortable enough for me not to complain. Unfortunately, the cardboard box alley corner was too far from my location at the diner, and everybody, myself included, knew the streets were most dangerous at night. The sun disappeared quickly behind the city's skyscrapers, so I hurried to make my way past the diner to look for someplace to settle for the night. The dark brought out all kinds of sleazy weirdos and drunks, and I had no desire to run into any of them.

    I sped up my pace while walking down the street, and I turned down one alley that branched off from the main streets, content with my finding. People tended to stare at me with disgust when passing me on the side block, which was not the most pleasant thing to wake up to. And God knows that looking for a place to sleep in the park is a death sentence, so why even bother? Alleys meant privacy and safety from ridicule.

    Eventually, I did manage to find a secluded area between two apartment buildings. Settling down, I set up a blanket—the one I always carried with me—underneath the fire escape stairs, just in case the clouds decided to take a piss tonight.

    I took out a half-eaten tuna can and the crust of a bagel I had found in the trash bins behind the diner. Food usually ended up being the biggest problem I had to face, but I promised myself I wouldn't steal. Being homeless was my fault, but I, at least, liked having the sense of freedom, despite sometimes having to deal with the scowls and side-eyes from other people. Even if having to live on the streets wasn't my choice initially, I ended up enjoying the lifestyle more than the one I had before my mother died. Due to his occupation in the military and his unfortunate outcome, I never knew my father to begin with.

    I had scooped up what was left of the canned fish and shoved it in my mouth with a satisfied smile when two men passed the alley. They failed to see me at first, but when they did, one puffed.

    "I wouldn't want my dame to be lookin' like that," he said.

    "Don't you worry, Barry; the one you got at home is plenty enough," the other answered before their voices were drowned by a passing truck, and they were lost to the dark.

    Not letting their snarky comments get to me, I focused on finishing my dinner and getting comfortable beneath my blanket. It was always hard to fully ignore the mean comments, so I would remember what my mother used to say every night when she put me to bed as a child. It was a saying that would never let me fall asleep with a frown on my face.