Power & Legacy || Steve Rogers

39 || cap'n

"I don't care. You're going to have to let me out sometime, you ought to just get it over with."

"I'm afraid it's not my decision to make." I look at his face, so dejected and after a few moments, I sigh. He doesn't trust me and I really need him tp. After all, he's right, one day we will have to let him out into the world and if he doesn't trust me, who knows what'll happen? "I'll try my best for you."

Maybe for the first time since I met him, a smile finds its way to his face, "Thank you."

And I did. Fury was reluctant, very reluctant. It took a lot of arguing, and begging, and well-structured persuasions but after another week, he caved.

So, here I am, a week later, pushing open the door to his small apartment. The whole car ride here, he's been as pale as a ghost. He tried not to stare out of the window, the sight of flashing billboards, cars speeding through the city, and the dozens of glass towers kissing the sky, enough to send him into another seventy-year sleep.

"Well, this is your apartment," I announce opening the door and stepping aside to let him in first.

He barely takes a step into the room before he stops in his tracks and looks around, his features warped into the same awed, yet heartbroken expression he's been wearing all the way here. His arms hang at his side and he breathes in slowly through his nose.

The apartment is fairly basic; to the right of the door, there's a kitchen, which is sectioned off by an L-shaped counter. It consists of a stove and oven, a white fridge, a dishwasher, and a few cupboards. Next to that, there's a small dining table with four seats and a vase of flowers in the middle of it (courtesy of me). Directly in front of us, there's a small living area with a grey sofa and two matching armchairs. There's also a relatively small TV, with a DVD player, and also a stereo. There are a couple more doors dotted around the room, leading to a bedroom and a bathroom.

"It's very... modern." is all he says.

If he thinks this is modern, he should see Dad's house in Malibu.

After pulling the door shut and locking it behind me, I take a few steps forward, so I'm next to him, "You just need time. You'll get used to it." I walk towards the kitchen, "You hungry?" he shakes his head, "Thirsty?" he shakes his head again. I sigh, "Well, I'm just going to assume that you're lying and make you something." He just kind of stands near the doorway awkwardly, whilst I open the fridge, "Take a seat, make yourself comfortable. This is your home."

"Right." he nods, then walks over and awkwardly perches on the edge of the sofa.

"Are eggs and bacon any good?" I ask. He simply nods, so I get on with cooking them, deciding it's best to give him a bit of peace and quiet.

When they're finished, I split them between two plates and place them both down on the table. Hearing the noise of the plate being placed on the table, he silently gets up and sits down opposite me.

"Thank you," he says, picking up the knife and fork I laid out and tucking in.

"You're welcome." I pause, "You know if you need anything, I'm here. Anything. Advice, help, or even just to talk. It's my job to help you out.". He just nods, "Steve, I can't even begin to imagine how hard this must be for you. Maybe talking about it would help you."

He doesn't reply or acknowledge me for a few moments, instead staring blankly down at his plate. A few moments pass before he quietly says, "Howard, your grandfather, I can't imagine him settling down."

"Well, I've heard he was very different back in the day. The Howard I knew was a bit more... serious." I smile to myself, "I never really knew him that well but I know my father and I've heard they're just alike."