In 1943 Steven Grant Rogers was enlisted to the United States Army.
Everyone knows the righteous, patriotic Captain America and his story. People might have heard of his mother, Sara, who was a nurse and died of tuberculosis. Perhaps some have even...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
When William awoke, he immediately felt that something was off. The air was heavy as if it was poison pumping through his lungs, sinking toxic gases into his blood system, making his head heavy and eyes ache. But his shoulder was in the most discomfort, it seemed to pulse with pain as if spiderwebs were burning his nerves. He groaned, confused as he felt the thin sheets around his shoulders. By the cleanest sheets and awful smell of medicine and moonshine, he knew he was in the medical tent. "That's going to scar." he whipped towards the voice, staring at John whose right hand was covering his own injury as he was sitting near the edge of the tiny bed.
"You got a piece of shrapnel stuck in your shoulder, there were also pieces of glass. Doc was afraid it was some new torture technique, throw some bottle that would start burning the flesh but whatever was in that was harmless. So you'll be alright in no time." John mumbled, his green eyes clouded as he avoided Will's eyes. "What happened? How many did we lose?" a silent question, a need to know if everyone Will knew were safe and sound.
"You got blown under the tank, you lucky arse lived right through it. Burned your neck a little though, but hey, at least you still got your limbs." his tone did not have the usual cherries that buried the anxiety, instead, there was pained smile. William reached io to his neck, clutching the small key that, somehow, was still attached to the rusty chain. Will did not miss the way John avoided answering one question.
Before he could dig further, the dark flaps of the tent were moved aside and furious Theo stormed in, his icy eyes immediately landing on startled Will. He took two long strides, standing right next to his bed as he towered over the boy, grabbing him from the collar as he lowered his red face down, their noses almost touching as he gripped the jacket so hard his red dotted knuckles turned white. "You bloody imbecile." hissed the angry soldier, his hands shaking as he ignored the confusion in those blue, haunted eyes. "You foolish child! What was going on between you and Captain!? What secrets do you hide?" his voice was filled with venom, Will felt his breaths getting shorter. "He always kept you at hands reach, why? Why you? What made you so special? Huh? Tell me!" there was a best of silence as he looked at Will, shaking his head in disappointment when the boy stayed silent, too confused to say anything.
"This is... All on you." he said quietly, John pulled Theo away, pushing him roughly away from shocked William. "Walk it off, Theodore." he said, immediately gaining the older man's heated glare. "He's right. Go on, clear your head." another voice joined in, stepping into the med tent. Hoare's steel cold eyes looked down at fuming Theo who just huffed and stormed out, the dirt and dried blood still on his face.
William looked up quizzically, still confused and hurt by what had happened. "Does the kid know yet?" he spoke to John as if Will was not even there, staring up wide-eyed while trying to ignore the throbbing in his shoulder. John shook his head, stepping aside to allow Pappy in properly. The older man nodded, clutching his hat as he stood tense and alert.
