Protecting Those We Love (Steve RogersxReader)

Visiting your grandfather in Germany was always a dream of yours, and you couldn’t wait for that one day when he was going to take you around the city he lived in. It was like a dream come true, walking around and talking to him in his accented, yet fluent, English. However, all fairytales end.

This one came to a close late in the night when you were walking past some museum of some sort, you didn’t particularly care at the moment to ask about it, as you and your grandfather were still talking about something that your father had done as a child. You laughed quietly at the story, but froze silently when the doors to the museum burst open, a crowd of people flooding out. Your grandfather grabbed your forearm, yanking you behind him so that you were hidden from the torrent of screaming party-goers. They seemed to be running from something.

Only moments later, a pale man dressed in a handsome suit came sauntering out, his blue-green eyes scanning over the panicking crowd that remained. As he walked down the steps onto the street, his suit melted into bronze armor and emerald fabric, a tall, horned helmet over his slick black hair. Everyone was running, shoving into you and your feeble-looking grandfather, but the man still held you steady.

The man in the bizarre looking costume slammed the butt of his staff against the cement and a clone of him appeared before the group of runners, causing them to turn back. “Kneel before me,” you heard him say as another clone trapped in the crowd at another direction. A third and fourth clones appeared, forming a giant circle and the crowd panicked, loud shouts and gasps filling your ears and dazing you. Your oppressor didn’t seem too pleased with the frantically running about crowd.

“I said,” he sneered, “kneel!” The four clones’ staffs flashed a bright blue light and everyone screamed once more, dropping down onto their knees in a new silence, including you and your grandfather. You clutched tightly to his hand, praying to whomever could hear you that you’d make it out alive

You couldn’t even process the man’s voice as he spoke, you just heard it’s slight British lit as he went on about the flaws in freedom. You could just hear the end of his speech and see him approaching from behind your grandfather’s proud figure. “In the end,” his voice was quiet, “you will always kneel.”

Dropping your hand after a reassuring squeeze, your grandfather stood, turning to face the grinning man, who seemed startled by the worn old man in a tan coat standing against him. “Not to men like you,” he said, voice strong and steady despite the circumstances.

The man chuckled to himself. “There are no men like me,” he said with a small shake of his head.

Your grandfather’s face was proud as he spoke once more in defiance. “There are always men like you.”

Breath hitching in your throat, you watched for your attacker’s reaction. His smile was dropped, but his voice was hauntingly calm. “Look to your elder, people.” You reached up to grab hold of your grandfather’s hand, and he shifted to hide you more from view. “Let him be an example,” the raven-haired man lowered his staff at your grandfather, who jumped a bit in shock but still stood to protect you against the glowing blue light that was gathering on the staff’s sharp tip.

Just as a bright beam shot out, however, a man jumped in front of your grandfather, holding a shield out that reflected the light back to the evil man. Your wide, (e/c) eyes quickly recognized the man’s costume from the newspapers you didn’t know how long ago and, though it was a bit different than the original, you could tell that that suit belonged to Captain America.

You tugged your grandfather back down to you in a tight embrace, carefully watching the superhero as he approached the man in green, who was now laying on the ground after being hit with his own weapon.

“You know, the last time I was in Germany, and saw a man standing above everybody else, we ended up disagreeing.” His voice was large in the heavy silence of the streets and the kneeling people cautiously watched from their positions.

The man rose. “The soldier,” he growled. Using the staff to help him to his feet, he chuckled a bit, “A man out of time.”

Captain America stood tall as the people around him began to stand as well. “I’m not the one who’s out of time.”

A giant plane appeared out of nowhere in the sky, immediately pointing a massive gun at the villian. A woman’s voice came on over the intercom. “Loki,” you gasped at the name of the Norse god, “drop the weapon and stand down.”

But, of course, instead the god glared up at the plane, firing another beam at it’s shiny, black surface. At this point, though, you had grabbed your grandfather’s hand and you were running as fast as you could anywhere but where the god of mischief and the hero from wars past were about to fight. You ran and hid behind a large copper statue, clutching tightly to your grandfather and hoping that the hero would win.

Peering above your hiding place, you gasped at what you saw. The Captain was pinned under Loki’s staff, the blade pressed close to the back of his neck. Captain America pushed it away and attempted to regain an advantage, but his battle was already lost. You closed your eyes and felt a tear slide down your cheek.

However, when you heard loud rock blast over the intercoms of that giant plane, you looked up again and saw something flying through the sky. A bright blast shot from the palms of the red and gold man and you cringed.

Your grandfather did the best he could to protect you at this point and held you tightly as he watched Iron Man landed solidly on one knee. As he stood, you watched with wide eyes as Captain America rose again. Iron Man pointed his fist at Loki, many little rockets and guns popping out of his armor menacingly. “Make a move, Reindeer Games,” the hot-headed man said just as the man lost in time took his place next to his fellow superhero.

Loki’s armor dissolved, leaving him in only his black leather clothing.

“Good move,” Iron Man said, lowering his weapons. The two heros greeted each other briefly before the giant plane landed and Loki was loaded into it, many guards at his sides.

Seeing Captain America walking away, you tore yourself from your grandfather’s grip and ran for the man.

“Thank you so much,” you said breathlessly when you finally caught up to him, “You saved my grandfather.”

His blue eyes widened, before softening and matching the small smile on his face. He nodded his head to you. “My pleasure, ma’am,” he told you before following the guards into that bizarre plane and flying off, probably never to be seen by you ever again. But, that was alright, because you knew that the hero would be there when you next needed him. Because that’s what heroes do.