1 | The Golden Age Is Over | Captain America

1 | Borrowing

"Walking through the fields of gold,

in the distance bombs can fall.

Boy we're running free, facing light in the flow.

And in the cherry trees, we're hiding from the world.

But the golden age is over.

The golden age is over."

- Woodkid

______________________________

"How much?" Opal questions with a smile, gesturing to the medium sized box filled with trinkets and antiques.

Larry, a good man, father, and the owner of the pawn shop, studies one of the items in his hand. He lifts the glasses hanging under his bearded chin up to his eyes with his free hand and studies it closer. Once he got a good look, he moved onto the others in the box resting on the counter between them then met her anticipating gaze.

"Well. . ."

"A series of burglaries have overtaken our fine city and the perpetrator -or perpetrators- have not been caught. Law enforcement officials and security experts recommend that all homeowners double check their locks and take precautionary measures to prevent a break in. . ." A newswoman reports from the old television mounted to the wall behind the counter.

Opal glanced up at the screen then back at Larry and shone a half worried half warm smile. "Could you turn that up please?" She asked with a concerned expression while pointing at it.

"Oh, yeah, sure." He answers in his gruff yet fatherly voice before finding the remote and aiming it up at the elevated TV. The little bar strokes slowly increased horizontally at the bottom of the screen as he firmly held down the volume button, the report audibly getting clearer. "There we go." He mumbled as he set the remote down.

"Thank you." She squeaked while watching it carefully, her eyes trained on the screen in observant curiosity.

"No problem." He decided to turn and face it as well, since he saw the "BREAKING NEWS" flash in the corner of the broadcast.

"A picture of the suspect was released but a moment ago. . ." The thing announced, causing Opal to freeze up slightly and cast her worried gaze at Larry for a second. "The image is blurry but police are saying to be on the look out for a caucasian male assailant possibly in his early twenties. He was last seen wearing a black hoodie, black jeans, and black boots at. . ." It continued.

And Opal let out a mental sigh of relief.

"Huh, can you get a load of this?" Larry scoffs at the broadcast in the background before turning his attention on her. "The guy needs to stop living off of others hard earned belongings and get a job, that's what he's got to do. Hmm, I tell you... Hmph." He grunts exasperatedly then cleans his glasses with the handkerchief that was stuffed in his pocket. A tiny observation she realizes is his habit time to time.

"I know right. . . People are stupid." She agrees with his brief rant, referring back to the TV with a swift throw up of her hand.

Little did he know that she was the culprit.

"Huh, not all of them, kid." He jokes, gesturing to himself with a hearty laugh.