James walked down the dark alley from his way home from one of his many jobs.
Whistling as he stepped, he reminisced about his day. Wasn't bad, he supposed.
He had gotten a ten cent raise at his job in the factory. His Ma would've been proud.
His Ma. James sighed as he thought about his loving mother, who had passed on a year ago.
If she heard about his raise, why, she would pinch his cheeks like she always did, and say, "I knew you could do it, you're such a hardworki-"
"'Scuse me, Sir. " A small voice whispered out.
James stopped walking. He looked around, searching for the owner of the voice.
"Next to the trash cans. " The voice quipped.
James turned around and walked a few paces back towards the trash cans. Beside them sat a bruised, bloody, and rather limp looking boy.
"C-could you help me up, please? " The boy asked.
James reached out a hand towards the scrawny looking boy. The boy placed his much, much smaller hand into his.
Leaning back, expecting the boy's weight to be a little more than it actually was, James helped the boy to his feet.
"Well, what are ya doing out here? It's almost midnight. " James asked, motioning to the dimly illuminated sky.
"I was trying to get a doll back from this bully. " The tiny boy answered.
James chuckled. "Aren't you a little old to be playing with dolls? "
"Wha-? No! " The boy blushed, clearly flustered. "It wasn't mine, this jerk had taken it from a little girl. I chased after him, but couldn't keep up. Then one of his buddies found me and thought I would be fun to punch. " He sighed, shaking his head. "The girl never got her doll back. "
James laughed again at the boy's selfless antics. "Well aren't you just God's righteous man. Where do you live? Looks like you can barely walk, so I'll be a gentleman and see you home. " He laughed at his own joke.
"It's a ways from here, " The boy replied. " I can get myself there. " He began to walk away from James, teetering as he stepped.
Crazy kid, James thought as he went after him. "I live a block from here. You might as well just stay at my place and we'll find your house tomorrow. How 'bout it, pal? "
Sighing, the boy nodded hesitantly. "Alright, fine. You don't have to treat me like a dame, though. I can see myself home in the morning. "
James chuckled. "We'll see about that. Name's James, by the way. "
Sticking out his bony hand, the boy greeted him properly. "Steve. Steve Rogers. "
James nodded and shook his hand, then carefully placed one arm around the littler boy's waist and helped him along the dark Brooklyn alley.