James Rogers is the next Captain America (thenextcap) wrote in thedoorway, @ 2012-11-24 13:02:00 |
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James went from the last battle with Ultron to being ripped into an alternate dimension, every cell in his body screaming, and there was no way he was just going to calm down because a stranger with a gun told him to. After a few scuffles with the soldiers, the exhausted and injured James was put into a room and the Star Shield was confiscated for him. He fought violently to get it back, but it was the right move; if he got it back, he’d just try to escape. If they put him in a common room, he’d try to escape. These people were crazy if they thought he was going to trust them after what happened. They could be behind this. Ultron could be behind this. So that’s why he ended up sullenly sitting at a table in an empty room, the walls reinforced so no escape seemed evident. He looked like a mess. The bright red cap of hair was dirty and sweat streaked, there were scratches and bruises on his skin, rips in his clothes, his electronic shield was malfunctioned and sparked occasionally, and James was physically exhausted. He looked about ready to drop, and he probably could if he felt safe, but his eyes burned with determined energy. He wasn’t going to drop his guard. Tony taught him that, or tried to, but the last time they got lazy, their home was destroyed. He had to find out where his siblings were and if they came through or they were safe back home. He had to get home so they could rebuild the city. James felt himself start getting too comfortable in the chair, his muscles relaxing, so he sprang to his feet. His body hurt. He started moving around the room, pacing and checking everything in case he could get out of there. The Avengers never gave up, and he was one of them now. Their leader. This was no time to be sitting down! When Steve had first heard the news (there was a teenage boy here, a boy who came from a world where his parents were Steve Rogers and Natasha Romanoff), he almost hadn't believed it. It wasn't have been the first time that someone arrived from a world almost like his, with the same names and different faces. It wasn't the first time that someone had a story about a Steve Rogers who wasn't him at all. Just finding out that there was an alternative universe where he existed was hard for Steve to wrap his head around. This other Steve did things he'd never done, met people he'd never met. Now there was a boy, too. A boy who was here alone. James might not have been his in the world as Steve knew it, but Steve still felt responsible for him and right now, Steve wasn't sure if anyone else would be able to convince him to calm down. Besides, if someone had to get hit, it should be him. He could take a few blows. Steve found his way to the room that the agents had placed James in, and knocked twice before letting the guard open it. They'd be watching to see if things got out of hand, but Steve trusted that he and James would be left alone for a few minutes before someone came rushing in. "James --?" Steve's head appeared first, and then he stepped into the room, shutting the door behind him. James heard the door and swung around, immediately moving back over to put the table and chairs between him and whoever was coming in. It showed how much he’d learned to control himself that he didn’t immediately fling the table at the man. It wasn’t that James was very violent - although he was trained to fight as soon as he could crawl - but he was raw and trapped and scared. He’d never admit that last part, not even to Tony. So instead of attacking he kept space between them and eyed the man warily. There was something maybe a little familiar to him. James never saw his father and he didn’t remember him, they died when he was a toddler. Tony had some pictures, but most of them were in costume. His hand automatically went to his busted energy shield, more for a sense of security. It couldn’t work. “What?” He was told a few things when he got there, but he was suspicious that it was all a lie. “Yeah ….” he said slowly, “I’m James Rogers. What’s it to you?” Bluster and challenge, that’s what he had to his name at the moment, and he was going to use it. Steve could tell the moment he saw James that the boy was on edge, so he took a slow, cautious step into the room, his hands open at his sides to show he didn't have any weapons in them. He was there in peace, and he didn't want James to think otherwise. Of course, Steve knew well enough that just approaching someone relaxed like that wouldn't be enough to prove he had good intentions, but it was a start, and the only one he could think of. The way James phrased his question -- the bravado in his voice -- made Steve smile a little despite himself. Maybe the other Steve was more brash, or maybe that was his mother's influence, or maybe he was just a teenager wanting to prove himself. Steve remembered what that was like. The fact that the boy was tough made Steve proud, in a way, although he did worry about why he was. He hadn't bothered to find out, even though he knew he could have. He thought the introduction might go better if he didn't appear to be a stalker. "Just making sure I had the right place," Steve answered. He considered lying and giving himself a different name, but he knew that wasn't smart. James wasn't likely to trust him already; there was no sense in making that worse in the long run. "I'm Steve." He paused. "Rogers." Tony always said he looked a lot like his father. Maybe it was about his jaw and eyes and the genetic resemblances, but it was probably more the way he carried himself. James was trained to be Captain America, or the next one at least. At sixteen he carried the title and the weight along with it. So he was usually together and strong and stubbornly difficult to get through to, but Steve knew the magic words without realizing it. For James, his Achilles heel was his lost family. The look on his face proved that quickly. It was like Steve punched him hard in the face, the attitude rushing away to vulnerability, and it lasted a few seconds before James fought to get it back under control. It could be a trick. It was obviously a trick. “Steve Rogers is dead. I don’t know what game you’re playing, but it’s not going to work.” He leaned hard on the back of the chair, and as angry as he was, he couldn’t look away from this man claiming to be Steve Rogers. “Why don’t you people just tell me what you want?” Shoot. Steve's eyes widened as he saw the emotions cross the boy's face, and he knew he'd said something wrong. Maybe he should have looked something up. It could have given him a hint of what was to come. If he'd been doubting what he'd been told was true -- that James was a Steve Roger's son -- the look on James's face would have proven it to him. Steve had lost his father, too. His shoulders slumped a little. "I'm not playing any games with you," he said, even though he knew he wouldn't be believed. Trusting James not to lash out, mostly because he could have already and hadn't, Steve took another few slow steps into the room. "I'm just here to talk, and to see if you'll listen. I promise you we don't want anything except for you to stop trying to hit everyone." James was good at reading body language, and this man had the build of someone who could be a threat, but he wasn’t acting like it. He was thrown off by the direction of the conversation and finally eased the tension in his own shoulders. He was ready for a fight if he needed one, but he was going to listen first. Briefly. He spun the chair around so it was facing him and straddled it. This was his version of listening on his own terms. He might as well be semi comfortable for it, and it gave him the air of a confidence he didn’t feel. “You guys might want to not start out with soldiers with guns. Also I want his shield back. My shield back.” It was a mistake easy to make since James only got his father’s beaten up shield a few hours beforehand. Losing it this fast? That really stung. “I don’t think you’re a robot. Ultron didn’t bother with human looking robots. He didn’t want to trick people, just kill them. So where is this?” Steve took James's change in position as a good sign and sat down in the other chair, across the table from James. "I'm sorry about them," he said gently, "but we never know who or what is going to show up. It's just a precaution." James had a good point, though, and Steve thought it might be worth bringing it up with S.H.I.E.L.D. There was no sense in scaring the refugees more than they already were. Just because something had been working for a few months didn't mean it was the best idea. "As far as your shield --" Steve's lips twitched upwards slightly. It shouldn't have been a surprise that James had a shield of his own. "I'll get it back for you, but if you use it against anyone, you won't get to keep it. Deal?" If it was anything like his own, it could be a weapon just as easily as a shield. "This is New York City, 2012." James knew Steve had a point there. He reacted defensively and he wasn’t nearly as dangerous as Torunn or the Hulk. If the Hulk showed up there, people would be dead. So they’d probably need the defense they could get. He wasn’t about to admit that he agreed after her went through the trouble of criticizing, so he shrugged instead. “If no one’s attacking me or anyone innocent, I don’t have a reason to use it.” Plain and simple. James did have a temper though, so he couldn’t blame it all on them why they had to take the shield away. His eyebrows raised at the date and he looked around again curiously. “That would explain the old tech. And the fact New York City is still mostly standing. Tony must not have ….” He hesitated. Only they knew that Tony was behind Ultron. “This is before I’m born. So.” So technically this could be Steve Rogers. Maybe. A slim chance. "You've got a point there. I'll get it for you when we leave." Already, Steve saw himself taking responsibility for James, whether they liked it or not. He was doomed, but he didn't have much of a choice. James was young, and if he made a mistake, someone would have to be an adult about it. James had been more forthcoming than Steve had expected, but it didn't help clear up any of Steve's confusion. "This is all new tech to me," he commented, offering the boy a slow smile. Maybe he'd get a laugh at Steve's ignorance where computers were concerned. "And yes, New York is mostly standing… for now." For now. After what had happened with Loki and the Chitauri, Steve fully expected something else to happen any day now. "Tony...?" He had a hunch, but he wanted to hear for himself. “It won’t be standing for much longer,” James muttered bitterly. He never got to see New York when it was alive and well. Tony told them about it and there were vids, but he saw the wasteland. That was enough. Until recently they’d never been outside of their underground base. One of the reasons James was particularly touchy and uncomfortable at the moments was because of how many people were around. Until the Scavangers, the only people James knew were his siblings and Tony. Four people, total. “Don’t you know?” He dropped his guard too quickly, and he should’ve known better. This was still not a safe spot. James adjusted the bracer on his wrist. Even busted it was clearly advanced technology. Stark specific. “You know enough to make jokes about being out of time, just like he was. Because of the ice, right?” Or so he’d want James to believe. The thing was, James wanted to believe it too. He desperately did. The last time he tried he almost got them all killed. “The thing that brought me here, can it send me back?” Although he knew better than to act like he knew everything, Steve had hoped that by feigning a bit of ignorance, James would answer the question for him. Maybe not. Maybe he'd have to try something else. Steve leaned forward, forearms resting on the table, hands clasped together. "Because of the ice, yes. It hasn't even been a year since I woke up." He was still catching up on everything he'd missed, and every now and then, Steve wondered if he'd ever understand the world like he wanted to. Like everyone else did. Except for the refugees. Maybe that was why he felt so compelled to help them, Steve thought. They didn't understand either. "We're working on it," he confessed, "but not yet. But we have somewhere for you to stay, and we'll be helping you out in the meantime. You're not the only one who's shown up here like this, and I don't think you'll be the last." James ran a hand through his dirty hair, the color the distinct bright red of Natasha, and looked away. “I don’t know anything about this time either. Ultron destroyed pretty much everything. You’re basically the tenth person I’ve ever spoken to.” He made a face and counted in his head. Tony, Pym, Azari, Torunn, Barton, Betty, Hulk, Vision, sort of Ultron. The Scavengers didn’t talk directly to him and the iron soldiers didn’t count. “Yeah, tenth.” Which hopefully communicated why he was struggling to deal with these changes. They were drastic for someone as isolated as he was. He snuck a look at Steve with a quick dart of his eyes and away again. “Are you really him? And if you’re not, let me be clear about this, I will kill you.” The way he said it sounded very serious. James only destroyed robots so far, but if someone tried to masquerade as his father just to mess with him or play cruel games? Yeah. He might not be close to forgiving. "I'm honored to be the tenth person you've spoken to, in that case." Steve meant it, too, with everything he had. If the Steve that James knew was anything like him, then Steve hoped that James would be able to figure that out. The teenager in front of him wasn't exactly his, but that didn't matter to Steve at the moment. It still tickled him to meet someone who was sort of his. It was strange, but not in a bad way. The only part of James's question that surprised Steve was the sternness in his voice. Steve recognized it, and he believed that James was serious. Deadly serious, if he had to be. "I believe you. I am Steve Rogers. I don't have any kids here that anyone's told me about," and if there were children, then someone had a lot of explaining to do, and Steve reckoned Peggy would want to have a serious conversation with him about how that was possible, "but that doesn't change who I am, and who you are. I wouldn't lie about that, not to you." Any version of Steve Rogers was someone James was desperate for. He tried to bond with a robot version. That’s how desperate he could get. And he knew how weird and pathetic that was. “I don’t remember you, um, him. He died when I was too young to remember. They all did. The Avengers and any other hero.” It was different trying to explain what he knew to someone else. He must have decided to believe Steve since the intensity eased away, and he went back to being awkward and nervous. He got up from his chair and turned it around so he could sit the normal way, unconsciously mirroring Steve in the process. “Tony saved us, kept us locked away so we’d grow up and save the world eventually. Or have some kind of chance. He was right, we managed to do it.” Torunn technically did, but they fought as a team. He also wanted to take a little of the credit to impress him. It was probably a ridiculous thing to do. Who knew if Steve cared about any of this? “Is she … is she here? The Spy, uh, Black Widow.” "Really? We're all dead?" Though Steve did believe James, it was still a shock to hear that in some other place, or in the future, somewhere, they were all dead. He wasn't afraid to die, but that didn't mean he wanted to. Besides that, it was difficult to imagine a world without the Avengers, or any superheroes at all. Who was left to stand up for everyone else? "Huh." Whatever James had been through sounded rough, Steve thought, and it made him sad to think that his own history had repeated itself with James too. A father dead before his son could get to know him, a boy left to fend for himself. "Natasha's here," Steve answered quietly, and for the first time he wondered how much she'd been told. He hadn't even stopped to consider her, or ask if she wanted to see James. A second later he realized that his familiarity with her and the way he said her name with ease might confuse James. "We're not…" He shook his head, frowning. "Together." “Ultron. He can’t die, or he couldn’t. He just kept coming back until everyone was dead. He can make his own robots and he’s connected to all wires and electricity and tech. But anyway, he’s gone.” James’ shoulders slouched. He was so exhausted and looking back on everything they’d been through in just the past days made it worse. “We were supposed to rebuild, try to fix the mess he made.” But there was no bringing back their parents, and now that Steve was in the flesh … it made the lines a little blurrier. Like would it be so bad to be stuck there for just a few days? “Oh,” was all James could think of to say. It was clear that it hit him hard despite the fact he tried to hide it. Tony said they were deeply in love and married before everything. “You can’t be him then. This isn’t close to our world.” Until then he had this irrational hope it was their world and he could stop Ultron from happening. Big mistake. This Steve didn’t have any reason to want a connection, and any tentative reaching out he tried to do was locked down. “I want my shield back.” Steve could tell that something had changed again, even before James said that he couldn't be him. He assumed James really meant that he couldn't be his father, and it was true. Steve wasn't. He wasn't anyone's father. "No, it's not," Steve admitted with a sigh. The look on his face was genuinely sympathetic, sad, regretful. "I'm not going to lie to you, James. You don't deserve that." It might have been disappointing to hear now, but Steve knew it was better than if he'd played along and James found out later -- because he would have, eventually. "So no, this isn't your world. It's similar, but it's not the same. And I'm sorry I'm not who you want me to be. I wish I was, for your sake." “Whatever, it’s fine.” James shrugged one shoulder. “It’s been fourteen years, it doesn’t matter.” Yeah it sucked and it hurt, but he was more angry at himself for thinking that they could’ve lucked out. But people didn’t come back from the dead, at least not in his world. And hope wasn’t something they had a huge supply of. He slouched into his seat and brushed a thumb across his forehead, scratching thoughtfully. “Same people, different world. And not the way Asgard is a different world.” He wondered what Torunn would think about that, but James had to focus now on getting back. “Listen, it’s fine, I’m calm. Just get me my shield and get me home, and you don’t need to worry about anything.” Steve wasn’t responsible for him. He almost asked if Tony was there, but it seemed likely he was, and he wouldn’t know him anyway. "It's been more than fourteen years since my dad died, and it's still not fine," Steve admitted, although he didn't think that James wanted him to push the issue much more than that. It was enough -- or so Steve hoped -- to show that he understood where James was coming from, as much as he could. He hoped it would help. Steve gave him a careful look before standing up. It wasn't true that Steve didn't have anything to worry about. He was going to worry whether James wanted him to or not. "Come with me. We'll get your shield, fill out some paperwork and I'll show you where you'll be staying." James didn’t point out their situations were vastly different, because he got the guy was trying to be decent. It bothered him that he was trying when there was no point, but he was too tired to argue. He’d just have to stay out of his way until they worked out everything. The more time he spent around some fake father, the less drive he’d have to go home, because a fake father was better than none at all. So it was better to focus. It was much better to sleep. He stood at the same time Steve did. “Yeah, uh, thanks.” Tony tried to teach them manners, but James was hard headed. “And tell the people I attacked sorry. I’m a little wound tight.” Understatement galore. He still kept a little distance from Steve, waiting for him to lead the way. "No hard feelings," Steve insisted, referring to both himself and to the soldiers, "it's understandable. I reacted about the same when I woke up here after being stuck in the ice for all those years." He'd panicked, and he'd fled, knocking out more than a handful of well-meaning agents. Maybe SHIELD needed to work on their introductions. Steve flashed one more shy smile James's way before heading down the corridor. After he got James settled in, he'd have to talk to Natasha and to Peggy, and for the life of him, he couldn't figure out what they were going to say. |