The End
“I can... do this all day..." He had blood dripping down his chin, and his breaths were barely coming out, but his fists were still up, and he was still standing, which meant that he was going to fight.
Because he always fought for the little guy. And this time- this time he was the little guy. He was once again Steve Rogers, the skinny kid from brooklyn. Steve Rogers, the perpetually sick. Steve Rogers, the nobody. And he liked it better than Captain America, everyone’s hero but his own.
Maybe that's why he still fought, even though he knew it was a pointless battle. Even as he once again got thrown back, he still struggled to his feet. Because he had something to prove.
If he was earth's last defense, he was going to make it count. He would buy as much time as he could.
If this is the end, let it be the noblest end in history.