This is actually a draft of the first chapter. It will, no doubt, be edited at some point for style and wording, but it won't be edited for content.
Basically, I've been looking for a Beta reader for this story for ages, and I haven't really had much luck. I know this chapter needs some work, but right now I've read this bit so many times that my eyes are worn out. It's not perfect yet, but I want to keep going in the story, and if I keep rereading this part of it I'll get more bogged down than I already am.
Feeling a bit down about this one, so let me know what you think because as implied, I could really use a second opinion.
October 3, 1924
"Nobody picks on my little brother but me!"
The sound of skin contacting skin hung in the air. No one else heard it. It wasn't loud enough to reach the open windows of any neighbors or draw the attention of passersby. The noise seemed to reverberate only far enough to hit the ears of the small cluster of three children at the bottom of the stairs, but for them the noise echoed like a clap of thunder.
Eleanor Rogers was in no mood for the scene standing before her.
Eleanor made a point not to miss school. Of course, Eleanor was one of those odd children who thought every day in school was fun, but she never liked being absent even when it wasn't. She trekked to and from her bedroom to Ms. Mason's second grade classroom, rain or shine, hot or cold, alone or not; and more often than not she was alone.
Steve Rogers skipped as many days of school as he attended. Not because Steve wanted to, most of the time Steve was just as upset as Eleanor when he couldn't go to school. Most days, though, he was just too sick or weak to slog down the road, and Eleanor made it her mission that she would not let him fall behind. Every day she went to school on her own, Eleanor would rush home with books Ms. Mason let her take from the classroom and teach her brother everything he'd missed, which was a lot.
Worse, though, were the times Steve went and Eleanor stayed home. Eleanor wasn't nearly as unhealthy as her brother, so it was rare that Steve ever traveled anywhere without her holding his hand. But in the presence of her ailing brother, it was inevitable that Eleanor occasionally caught something.
She tried, rather desperately, to insist to their mother that Steve shouldn't be allowed to go to school without her, but Sarah Rogers only ever insisted that going outside and getting away from their shared room and away from his coughing sister would do Steve good.
Eleanor wasn't really worried about getting Steve sick again or keeping him out of the sun. She was concerned about the people around town.
Eleanor's presence did not stop all of the bullying, not by a mile. Though, Michael, in particular, seemed to hesitate picking on Steve when Eleanor was at his side, and none of the group would steal the coins their mom gave Steve when Eleanor was around. It was far worse when she wasn't there to help him.
Yesterday, Steve had come home without his socks and without his favorite drawing pencil.
Steve said nothing about it, not wanting to worry his mother or Eleanor, but Eleanor had run across the road to interrogate their neighbor Sadie on her way out that Wednesday morning.
Sadie told her that, at the beginning of the week, a new boy named Gilbert had showed up in their class. He was even taller than Michael and bigger than Gerald, and he'd instantly singled out Steve.
Eleanor wanted Steve to stay home with her. By the time she got back across the street, he was already out of sight, and Eleanor resigned herself to sitting on the bottom step. Her mind whirled with all the horrors this new pest, this faceless Gilbert, was going to inflict.
Michael had ruined Steve's shirt with paint once when Eleanor had a cold. Gerald had stuffed Steve in the school's trash can after Eleanor was sent home with pink eye. Jack even broke Steve's nose once after slamming into the side of the schoolhouse while Eleanor was distracted talking to a teacher. For some reason, Eleanor had it in her mind that Gilbert would be worse.
Steve never backed down from a fight, so getting beat up now and then when Eleanor wasn't there to break things up was inevitable. But never, never in her life, had Eleanor seen or even imagined one of the boys having the nerve to show up at their door.
Her spindly finger poked into the boy's bony chest with just enough force to send the latter teetering backwards on his heels to keep his balance.
"If you want to mess with him, then I promise I will mess with you."
Steve was walking with his right leg bent at the knee, keeping all his weight around the new kid's shoulders. As his support went on the backfoot, Steve could feel his legs about to give out under him, and he unwrapped his arm from the other boy to catch the stair railing.
"You keep your hands off him, mister." As she advanced, Eleanor looked about ready to draw back her arm for another strike.
Steve launched forward and grabbed his sister's wrist before she could do any more damage. "Eleanor, don't."
"Steve," Eleanor turned her fuming expression on him, "They do this every time, and it's not okay!"
"James didn't do anything to me, Eleanor."
She froze. Eleanor's eyes flitted up to the unknown boy in front of her. James, not Gilbert, was rubbing his cheek where a faint red mark resembling the shape of Eleanor's tiny hand was already starting to form. "But Sadie said…"
"Gilbert, I know, he was there today. He tried to steal the money Mom gave me to replace my pencil. James punched him." Steve explained. "I only hurt my ankle because I tripped when Gilbert shoved me."
Eleanor eyed James for a moment. It wouldn't be above Steve to tell her some story that would stop her from getting in trouble for him, but she could always tell when Steve was lying. He wasn't very good at it.
"I slapped you," she stated rather dumbly.
"Yes," James rolled his jaw around as if testing that it still opened and closed. His face was only serious for a moment, before it broke out in a grin. "You've got a mean swing. I guess fighting runs in the family."
"Eleanor's a champion at the gym up the street," Steve teased lightly.
"I'm not surprised!" James returned with an easy laugh and a bright smile. Pointing at Steve's back, James waited patiently for Eleanor to move. "I should probably help him."
"Right." Eleanor slipped to the side and let James skirt by.
James didn't seem bothered by being struck. He plucked up Steve like nothing happened, marching up the stairs.
The stairs weren't meant to go three wide. They were really only built for one adult to go up at a time, so Eleanor trailed behind the pair, chewing on her bottom lip.
The one time in her life she did something even remotely violent, and she chose the wrong person. It was just that her thoughts had run wild waiting all day to spot her brother, and the idea of one of those boys coming here, to their home, was infuriating. Eleanor never slapped any of Steve's other bullies at school. She always weaseled her way between Steve and his opponent, and often times she would push them off her brother. But not once, even when she desperately wanted to bite back, had she ever done anything to retaliate.
She felt utterly horrible.
Granted, Eleanor couldn't have done too much damage. James didn't even move that much when she slapped him, only curled his head away from the blow. Poking him had done more, and even that had only actually affected Steve.
"You coming, Eleanor?" Steve called back over his shoulder as James assisted him up.
"Right," Eleanor repeated and rushed after them, stumbling as she took the climb two steps at a time to catch up.
James waited on the landing for her, and the young girl rushed around to open the door. Eleanor rushed through first, crossing to the bedroom in a flurry, while James shuffled along behind with Steve in tow.
The apartment was well cared for, but incredibly small. The kitchen was in the living room along the wall across from the door and consisted only of two wood cabinets on either side of a stove. Next to the nearer cabinet was a table with four small stools. They sat so close to the small couch in the living space that two of the angled legs on the closest stool actually rested under the gap between the couch and the floor.
There wasn't much else to the room, but a doll lying on the cushions, a stack of cards sitting on the window sill, a blanket folded on the floor, and a few pictures hanging on the walls made the place feel like a home.
Eleanor ducked her head around the corner of one of the two doors on the right wall. "Can you bring him in here?"
"Course," James helped Steve over to the bedroom and laid him on the bed Eleanor pointed out.
The bedroom was clearly one that the two shared, each claiming one side as their own. Two cots were pushed up against opposite walls, making room for a four-drawer dresser underneath the window in the center. They were the only pieces of furniture. The space between the two was otherwise clean, but the ends of both beds were cluttered.
Steve's bed was the one to the left of the door. On the floor at the end of his bed were stacks of papers, covered in all sorts of drawings. There were at least three pads worth littering the floor, and another two pads untouched were pushed into the corner. Some of the better pictures were tacked to the walls, and James was sure that even when he got older he'd never be able to draw anything as well as the scene of the girl sitting in the snow that took pride of place at the center of the wall on Steve's side of the door. It was, very clearly, a portrait of his sister in the park next to the school. She must have posed for it with all the detail put into the picture.
To the right was what James assumed to be Eleanor's bed. Distinguishable only by her red sheets, while her brother's were blue. Her bed was neatly made and tucked in. A book sitting on her pillow was the only break in the color. It was just one of many books sorted neatly into two stacks at the foot of her bed. They were joined by a jigsaw, already assembled, depicting some castle James had never seen.
"We've not met," James realized he was inspecting a stranger's room and turned to Eleanor. "I'm James Barnes. I'm in the class next to yours." He stuck out his hand.
"Eleanor Rogers."
"Call her Nora!" Steve exclaimed.
Eleanor wrinkled her nose and leaned around James to glare at her brother. "That's not nice, Steve."
James seemed surprised, darting between the two. "You don't like Nora?" He asked.
Steve gave a light hearted smirk, "She hates it."
Eleanor, defiantly, put her hands on her hips. "My name is Eleanor."
"Then it's nice to meet you, Eleanor."
"Nice to meet you."
James awkwardly let his outstretched hand fall by the wayside with a disappointed look, and Eleanor realized too late that he'd wanted to shake hers.
Her mother always shook people's hands, but she'd never known another person her age who did it. Usually it was just hugs or waves.
"Thank you," Eleanor tried to fix her mistake with a smile. "For walking Steve home, the other boys can be mean."
"Do they try to beat you up every day?" James asked, circling back to her brother. He plopped himself on the edge of Steve's bed, only paying attention to avoid sitting on Steve's toes.
"Only when Eleanor's not there," Steve leaned in like he was telling James a secret and said, "they're all scared of her."
"Hey!" Eleanor jumped back and grabbed the pillow off her bed, throwing it across the room at him.
The pillow missed wide, and James only just managed to snag the red fabric before it smacked into his face.
Steve broke into as hearty a guffaw as his feeble lungs could manage, rolling over onto his side with the force, "Twice in one day you've hit James. I thought you'd be nicer to him than me."
Eleanor huffed and put her hands to her hips with a glare that mimicked their mother, though it lacked any of Sarah Rogers' authority or seriousness. Even angry, it was nearly impossible to take Eleanor Rogers seriously. She was far to kind and caring a person; her face was wide eyed with innocence and bright with life.
"Here, let me." James smirked, swinging the pillow around with one hand. It didn't have much force behind it, but Steve still fell over on his back when it hit his chest.
"Thank you," Eleanor beamed, "See. Even James knows you deserved that."
"Eleanor!"
Eleanor lurched for the door at the sound of the voice outside. "Momma!" None of them had heard her come in.
The wide open bedroom door gave a view of the main room as Ms. Rogers came in, juggling three bags of groceries in one arm to free her other to open the door.
James got up to follow Eleanor, each of them rounding the couch to grab a bag.
"Thank you, Steve. Oh!" Ms. Rogers jumped when her vision was freed, and she saw the face of the boy who took the second bag.
"Mom, this is Steve's new friend James!" Eleanor hefted her paper bag up onto the counter. "He helped him home from school. Steve hurt his ankle again."
"Again?" Ms. Rogers shifted the groceries to her hip, looking oddly relieved at the news. "Well, thank you for bringing him home James. I hope it wasn't too much trouble."
"No trouble, ma'am," James set his sack down next to Eleanor's. "But I should head home my mom will worry."
Ms. Rogers nodded. "Well, you're welcome here anytime. We'll have to make you dinner whenever your mother will let you come by."
James nodded. "Yes ma'am."
"Call me Sarah, dear." Ms. Rogers reached out her free hand to ruffle James's hair.
James instinctively went about straightening it as he walked back to the children's room. "I'm just going to say goodbye to Steve."
"Eleanor, show your friend out, please." Ms. Rogers whispered to her daughter.
"Of course, Mom."
Eleanor followed James back to the room in time to hear him asking, "Will you be at school tomorrow?"
Steve had stolen Eleanor's pillow and was propping himself up on both of their cushions against the head of his bed. A book of paper was settled in his lap that Eleanor was pretty sure he'd pulled out from under his mattress because she hadn't actually heard him get up to get one of the ones off the floor.
"I think so."
Pursing her lips, Eleanor looked over her brother's leg, which looked uncomfortable even lying down. "Are you sure?" She announced her presence behind James, drawing both boys' attention, "I'm staying home. Mom won't let me go in tomorrow with how sick I felt this morning."
Steve rolled his eyes and flopped back on his bed. "I never ran away from Michael. I'm not going to run away from Gilbert."
James silently watched the exchange from his spot between them.
Eleanor sighed, resigning herself to Steve's fate, and fled the room.
James gave Steve a quick wave, "I'll see you then," and went after her.
"Don't worry," James spoke low enough that Steve and Ms. Rogers wouldn't hear, "I'll look out for him tomorrow."
Eleanor held open the door and stepped out onto the landing on James's heels. "Thank you," she let the door swing shut behind them. "He won't tell Mom how bad it is, so I have to watch him constantly. They still talk, but at least they don't hurt him when I'm there."
"Of course they don't." James shrugged. "No one wants to make the prettiest girl in school mad."
Eleanor went immediately crimson, made worse by how obvious James clearly thought his statement was. She'd never taken compliments well. Last year, Sadie's older brother had told her her dress was nice, and Eleanor still hadn't talked to him since. "I," She stumbled over the word, not really knowing whether to compliment him in return. "Thank you," she settled on.
"You don't have to keep thanking me." James didn't seem to notice her change in face, but Eleanor supposed that her pile of blonde curls she'd immediately hid her face into had done most of that work. "I hope you feel better soon." James turned to retreat back to the road.
"Oh James!" Standing outside again reminded Eleanor of what she forgot to say, and she launched herself towards the wooden ledge to look down at him.
James stopped halfway down the steps and squinted against the sun to look up at her. "Yes?"
"I'm really sorry for slapping you."
James chuckled, "It's fine. Just remind me to teach you how to throw a punch sometime."
October 8, 1924
James had come back with Steve the very next day and taught Eleanor how to hold her hand in a fist properly. "I have a brother, and we play fight all the time," he'd explained.
The next Monday, when Eleanor finally came back to school, she put her new found knowledge to use.
"Excuse me," She tapped the boy as high up on his shoulder as she could reach.
The unfamiliar face rounded on her, simpering. "Hi there."
"Are you Gilbert?" Eleanor made sure to ask this time.
"Course I am!" Gilbert made the mistake of leaning back against the schoolyard fence, so his height was even with his new conversation. "And who are you?"
"I'm Eleanor Rogers." And she swung.
TroubleBecca123: Thank you for the review! I hope you enjoy this.
Angi Marie: Thank you! The start is always the easiest part for me, so hopefully the rest lives up.
FriendlyNeighborhoodHufflepuff: Steve always needs a hug, tbh. Hopefully a bit of sibling love in this chapter will ease his pain for you.
ILoveThee: Here is more. Lol
Ana1785: I'm trying. I really am trying.
Ten Duel Commandments: Finally someone who understands. This chapter has been the worst. In part, cause I don't have a beta anymore, but also because doing a "meeting Bucky Barnes" without detracting from the friendship between Steve and Bucky is really hard. Working the rest of this plot is fun for me, but establishing the friendship is what I find most difficult about the whole thing. You?
xenocanaan: Thank you for the review! I hope this fulfills any expectations.