[Prologue] Hero of the Neighbourhood
“You’ll be the Hero of the Neighborhood,
Nobody knows that you’ve left for Good.
Smiling Faces as you wait to land,
But once you get there no-one gives a Damn.”
He wasn’t quite sure how they’d managed to get all the way back behind the frontlines and to the Base Camp. It had been days since they’d seen anything even close to resembling civilization. Even though the facilities had been burned to the ground and there had only been a slight chance that the survivors had taken up pursuit they’d made sure to avoid roads and villages. They’d subsisted on the few edible berries and roots they’d managed to find while pushing forward with minimal breaks to reach safety.
During the few months he’d spend at Camp McCoy in Wisconsin Bucky had actually rolled his eyes when the officers in command announced the survival course was mandatory for their basic training. He’d been fairly sure that he wouldn’t need the skills anytime soon. Now though he was rather grateful he hadn’t been completely unprepared for the rough days that’d followed their escape. He was pretty sure the adrenaline coursing through his veins was the only thing keeping him upright while he did his best to keep up with Steve’s long strides. His muscles were sore and his vision was swimming, loosing its focus quite frequently. The astonished cheers and welcoming shouts of their comrades were muffled by the dull headache, leaving him somewhat detached from his surroundings. He could feel every scrape and bruise on his body and his hands felt almost numb, only barely allowing him to keep a grip of the rifle. His wrists pulsed in agony where the shackles had chafed his skin, leaving his flesh raw and oozing blood. Someone clapped him on the back and he almost lost his footing, struggling to regain his balance for several seconds afterwards.
Yet, the smile remained on his lips. In this very moment, pain and exhaustion didn’t matter in the slightest. They’d somehow made it through the hardships of warfare and imprisonment. He was still alive and breathing without being restricted by the heavy weight of trepidation on his chest. If it hadn’t been for Captain America, they would have been dead by the end of the month. The fatigue and hard work that had been his downfall would have spared none of the doldiers.
Looking back now, the torture had almost been a nice change of pace. Continuously repeating his name and ID hadn’t taken as much strength as pushing his body to its limits with minimized rations and sleep. The pain had still been intense, but the drugged haze that had settled over his thoughts once they’d finished their business had almost made up for the spilled blood.
He glanced at Capt- Steve again, allowing himself to stare for a few precious seconds. He was still struggling to comprehend the change the Serum had caused and to find his best friend beneath the tight muscles and the distinctive jawline. The only thing that had remained the same were his eyes. While his body had been steeled and hardened, they still shone bright like the heavens above and held an unmistakable courage. Those were the eyes of the boy nobody had acknowledged because of his poor health and ragged clothes. The boy he’d admired from the very first second because he’d been the most brilliant and talented person that Bucky had ever met in his entire life.
If it hadn’t been for work and school, he’d have spent days and nights listening to his ramblings about the grand issues of their country or the latest book he’d snuck from the library. Even though Bucky wasn’t the most patient person, he’d never even considered complaining about the endless torrent of words pouring from his lips. He’d been content as long as he had the chance to drown in the syllables that soft voice formed, forcing his eyes to remain open even when he’d been dead on his feet after working double shifts at the docks to help with the bills piling up on the kitchen table.
Steve had always been the most courageous and dumb person in his life, too. He had never witnessed him running away from a fight or turning his back on those who were in need of help. Yet, it had taken a drastic change of his appearance for people to see him for the person he’d always been.
Bitterness mixed with the adrenaline in his veins and he couldn’t help but scrunch up his face. He really wished he could have opened their eyes before. That he could have introduced them to Steve Rogers instead of Captain America and convinced them that the little boy held the same worth as the hero they now cherished. Maybe his tiny, fragile best friend wouldn’t have felt the need to join the army and change every aspect of himself to convince the world of his brilliance.
But just as he felt like the acid in his veins would burn right through his skin, Steve turned his head and gave him a smile as bright and warm as a summer’s day. It easily extinguished all the unpleasant feelings bubbling inside his stomach. Instead of complaining about the ignorance of soldiers and commanders alike, he heard himself speaking up: “Let’s cheer for Captain America!” Even though he’d always be Steve to him, he’d become someone else for the rest of the world and a tiny voice inside his head whispered that he didn’t actually want to change that. That he wanted to keep Steve to himself anyways instead of sharing him with the world.