Steve Rogers/Captain America One Shots

A Noble Man

Trash cans crashed together as they hit the brick walls of the nearby alley, and you could hear the sound clearly as you walked in the same direction. Voices mumbled in low tones, and even as every voice inside of your head screamed for you to just keep walking, your heart guided your feet towards the sound of the fight that ensued in the dirty alley. The heels you sauntered in, stepped on shredded old newspapers and trash that hadn't made it even close to reaching the metal trash cans lining the walls. And you stepped over puddles of murky rain water that spotted the concrete, while dodging the small mass of something sticky to your left. As you cringed at your foul and filthy surroundings, a man walked past you. Leaving the alley behind him as you were just beginning down the narrow dead end. The large man shook his hands slightly at his sides, and dropping your gaze at his waving extremities, you could already see the bruises forming that tore at his split knuckles. 

But the sight that truly made your nervous heart quicken, more so than seeing a frightening man pass on your right and the piles of filth lining your path, was the person laying in the mess of scattered trash cans and discarded rubbish in the far corner of the hideous alley. His back was facing up as his face was pressed down against the moist concrete, and just looking at him bleeding in a heap of garbage, you picked up your pace. Your Mary Janes splashing through the puddles as you jogged quickly to the poor man's aid. 

The sound of your footsteps must've startled the man for his head shot up, and he looked at you with widened eyes. His hands had already clenched back into fists, although they were already beginning to fade into a fair shade of blue. He wasn't afraid of a fight, it was clear in the way he was instantly on the defense, but something about the blazing blue eyes that met your hesitant gaze, told you that he wouldn't harm you. 

"It's okay," You held your hands up in the air slightly, as your footsteps faltered inches from the man. "I'm not here to hurt you."

Your words sounded foolish the moment they escaped past your burgundy tinted lips, for there was more of a chance that this injured man could do you harm than you could even inflict on him. But even as you cringed at your own words, they seemed to cool down the defensive blaze that soared through the man. Allowing his hands to relax and escape from the tightly wound grip of his fists, and his eyes softened the longer he stared at your face. 

"I'm sorry," You apologized kindly. "I didn't mean to startle you."

Bending down to your knees, holding the skirt of your dress down with one hand as the faint breeze threatened to show this man more than he bargained for, you extended your other hand to him. "Here, let me help you up."

The man looked at you and breathed out heavily as he was still seeming to catch his breath. But he slowly slid his hand into your own, and you carefully helped pull the thin man to his wobbling feet. He was smaller than you had realized when you ran down the alley, he was thinner and a few inches shorter than you for sure. But there was something about him that you had never seen in any of the other men you had ever met in your life. There was something pure in the way he looked at you, with eyes bluer than the deepest ocean, and in the way he presented himself. Something emanated from him that hit you like a boulder to the stomach, hard and with intent to carry through. It was startling.

"Thank you ma'am," The blond haired man nodded his head with appreciation, and looked down to examine the wounds that marred his body. The tan jacket he wore almost seemed to be a size too big for him, as though he might get a little lost putting it on. And you could see newspapers sticking out of the slight hole in the near front sole of his shoe. "I appreciate it."

You smiled softly at the way he spoke to you, with respect and manners that seemed few and far between these days with the kinds of men you stumbled across. "It seemed you had him on the ropes there. But I thought you could use a helping hand there at the end."

His head raised, and his blue eyes were once again swallowing you up like a beautifully suffocating wave. And you watched as his eyebrow furrowed slightly at your playful and light words. "I'm surprised you're not telling me I'm crazy."

"And why would I think that?" You asked innocently as you looked at him with pure curiosity. 

The beautiful man shrugged as he tipped his head slightly to the side, the edges of his spilt lip tilting upward into a small crooked smirk. "Because ma'am, when most people see a scrawny boy like me standing up to a man like that, they don't expect any other outcome. They believe I must be crazy to believe I'd win or even make a mark."

The strings inside of your anxiously beating heart pulled at his words, and a sadness filled your chest. "I don't think you're crazy. I don't think you have some kind of death wish going up against a man twice your size."

"What would you call it then, if you don't mind me asking?"

You stayed quiet as you gazed caringly at the man bleeding in front of you, and before you decided to answer his curious question with an answer you didn't yet know yourself, you reached into the pocket of the now smudged white cardigan you wore. Pulling out the thin and carefully embroidered handkerchief, that you carried with you from day to day. And reaching out timidly with your hand, that softly shook with nerves, you brought the soft fabric to the edge of his lips. And the pale fabric instantly stained to a dark crimson shade. 

"I think," Your mind searched for the perfect word, as you knew there was only a very certain set of words, that described a man like this one. "I think that you're noble. 

He seemed to be of a completely different breed perhaps. One of pure heart and intentions. One of goodness and selflessness that left you in awe. He wasn't the perfect man; he was challenged physically but you knew that wasn't what truly made a person great. It was what laid inside of them. And you knew the heart that beat inside of this man's chest, was bigger and more powerful than anyone else's. He wasn't perfect, because that was impossible. But he was a good man, and that was as close to perfect as you could get. 

"Nobody likes bullies," You added softly as you continue to dab gently at his lip that was beginning to swell. "but not everyone has the courage to stand up to one."

"And I think that makes you noble."

The man winced slightly as you soaked up the blood until it began to clot, "I'm nothing special."

You knew that wasn't true. Everything about this man was something special. But looking at him, you knew he would never except that kind of compliment.

"It's a good thing I didn't say special then," You smirked faintly, as you saw the edge of his lips begin to twitch into a small pained smile once more. "it takes a lot of guts to stand up to someone who's telling you that you're wrong or even just a man who's being a bully to others. Especially when you know you're unevenly matched. But you don't care."

"And I think that make you incredibly brave--"

"Steve," The man replied as you paused for him to finally share his name with you. "Steve Rogers."

"Well," You smiled softly at the good man. "it's been an absolute pleasure to meet such a noble man such as yourself Steve Rogers."

A good man was rare. A noble man was even rarer. But a special man, the kind of man Steve Rogers was, now that was like finding a diamond in the deepest and darkest crevices of the sea. And somehow you managed to find it hidden down an old and abandoned alley in Brooklyn.

A/N: It's hard to not love Pre-Serum Steve!😍 I'm so happy with how this sweet and shorter one turned out! I've had ideas for this one tumbling around for a while now, and then some of the dialogue hit me the other day and so I had to sit down to write it! I hope you enjoyed it! And it never really hurts to have a little fluffy Pre-Serum Steve! ❤