Thread: Shaken Apart (Avengers/supernatural) Fox-Lady

Steve Rogers was nervous. Very nervous in fact. It hadn't been so bad when they where out fighting blue aliens with funny faces and chasing an alien claiming to be a god. Everything had seamed so dulled then, the pounding of adrenaline, the rush of fighting real enemies instead of invisible opponents in a dojo. Now he was sitting in a kitchen wearing clothes he'd packed the night before, wondering when his life had flipped so completely around. He had been born in 1912 to a wonderful woman named Sarah Rogers. His father had died in war when he was young, he couldn't remember now how old. It was now 2012 and he knew he could no longer hide that Steve Rogers was a bit of a freak. People had been perfectly content thinking that ninety four year old Steve Rogers was sitting in a nursing home, tending to his investments with the help of nursing staff. Steve was fairly sure that the general populace would continue to think that until Steve Rogers became too old, they would then simply assume Steve Rogers was his grandson, just as elusive as his grandfather. For the strange, eclectic collection of so called superheroes now being called the Avengers in the newspapers, there was no hiding. He felt exposed, even naked under the watchful gaze of the being known as Jarvis. Jarvis, Steve had learned, had always known who Steve was as soon as the man had bought stocks in the company since Jarvis's birth. Jarvis had been watching him intently as Steve's ownership of the stock went from fifteen percent, to fifty after Tony was kidnapped, came back, and declared he was no longer making weapons. As the majority shareholder, Steve could have a voice in the company and Jarvis had waited for something to come up, waited for Steve to make his voice heard as was his right. It had never happened save the once. When Pepper Potts was announced as the CEO, the Board of Directors had contacted all the shareholders to vote. Steve, by then, owned fifty two percent of the company and had indeed Voted. In favor of pepper Potts. Since he owned over half the shares, his vote rendered the others all useless, that was the only time Steve had ever given an opinion or registered a vote in the company. Steve just didn't feel like he had any right. Tony ran his business just fine without him getting in the way and Pepper did an even more impressive job. He sighed and looked down at the page he was sketching. His artwork was more a passion now, than a job but back in the nineteen forties it had been the only thing that kept him going after the last person he had left died in the war. Steve had killed himself after he had learned of Bucky Barnes death. He had actually tried to kill himself four times but somehow, the death had never stuck. He drowned himself in work after that and since he didn't care if he died, he spent no money on heat or food, paying for his electricity only because he needed light to see by. He was pretty sure he'd died a few times of hypothermia and starvation but by the time he was thirty, cold had ceased to bother him and his stomach stopped calling out for food. He ate, only because he liked it, not because he needed it. He slept for the same reason. Mostly he drew, watched T.V. Listened to music and tended to his investments. Now, he was fighting aliens in the busiest city in America. He wasn't sure his brain could handle such an extreme shift. He was also very sure that now that Tony had him there, he wasn't going to be allowed to go back to his quiet lifestyle. So, he sighed, finished his sketch of Bucky, and took a sip of coffee and stared at it. Bucky, and sometimes Sarah, where the only people he ever drew. They where the only people who had ever truly mattered to him. maybe, maybe seventy years was long enough to grieve and he could make some new friends. After all, with the freaks he had fought next to, who would care that he was the freakiest out of all of them? At least they couldn't kill him, he didn't think.