she fell in love in the first place

[triskeles]

	For the life of me, I cannot remember What made us think that we were wise And we'd never compromise For the life of me, I cannot believe We'd ever die for these sins We were merely freshmen

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good man, rogers

[triskeles]

There was a time where the same could be said of Derek Hale. He was quiet in high school, if athletic and part of the sports community, of the pack. He was friendly, got along with most people even though he preferred close friends and his family over large crowds. There was even a time where he was only a dozen or so pounds heavier than the law school student slumped in the corner of an alley, before puberty had taken hold and he'd shut himself off from the world.

But the need to follow what was right had been so ingrained in him, it never quite left him even when he was doing all that he could to survive.

Following the scent of copper and mottled rust, Derek made his way down the alley and frowned at the sight that meets him. Part of him realized it was none of his business, but the other part that'd been tempered by years of being an alpha brought him closer, had him kneeling in front of the younger and smaller man.

He smelled the illness and weakness in him, but there was something about his injuries that told him it wasn't because of this that he was such a mess.

"Think you can stand?"

[neverdanced]

Steve didn't expect anyone to enter the alley, much less approach him. People minded their own business, especially when it was a fight. After all, the last thing anyone wanted was to step in and get a knife pulled on them. It was understandable and Steve never resented them for it. This just surprised him immensely. This was a stranger, not Bucky.

"Yeah." He winced as he shifted. "Yeah, I'm fine." Using the support of the wall behind him, he slowly got to his feet, leaning against it some so he didn't lose balance. His legs ached and he felt unsteady, but that would past.

[triskeles]

It was an unfortunate thing, that people had been so conditioned into turning a blind eye on things like this. Derek remembered a lot of it in New York, every time he went out. He'd tried not to fall prey to the mindset, and mostly succeeded, but it was more prevalent now in his thirties.

He watched his movements, looking to see what he favored most, before he reached out as if to steady him. In truth, that was only partially the reason. The primary reasoning was to dull some of the pain, using the darkness of the alley and a slight slip of his hand to find a small patch of skin to let his veins fill with black.

"Looks more like you wound up in a three-on-one than you being fine."

[neverdanced]

Steve was unable to see what Derek was doing, so there were no assumptions apart from figuring he was just trying to help him. Then again, Steve had no experience whatsoever with supernatural things. As far as he knew, life was as straight-laced as he was.

"I got a few punches in."

He would've been in worse shape if he'd been in a three-on-one. He knew that from experience. This was nothing. It was just a little unfortunate that the guy he took on had nearly a foot and a half on him.

"Really, I'm fine." He looked up and made eye contact when he said that. This stranger made a great first impression, but Steve wanted it to be clear that he didn't need coddling. This was a frequent enough occurence.

[triskeles]

There were some people who would just nod and walk away after that confirmation, but Derek looked back at Steve without hesitation and saw something there. Something that reminded him of his pack-- that spark of defiance, of strength that was contained in a way that it shouldn't have been-- and he couldn't help the quirk of faint amusement. But it was obviously not at Steve's expense, and he gave his shoulder a pat before he drew his hand away, black starting to recede.

"I'll take your word for it," he inclined his head just slightly, conceding to his obvious wish to stand on his own.

He'd seen it plenty of times, and had felt it just as often. So he could sympathize.

"You seem like someone who wouldn't go down without a fight, anyways."

[neverdanced]

The pain started to fade away, and that was strange enough to cause some alarm. Steve frowned, but didn't say anything about it. What could he say? Make some idle comment about how it didn't feel like he got with a semi anymore? That just wasn't his style. His posture wasn't so tense anymore, at the very least. Walking home wouldn't be a complete pain.

"Backing down isn't in my blood, especially not to bullies." He paused, then held his hand out. "Steve Rogers."