horror looks you right between the eyes.

It had been a long time since Steve Rogers had found himself in a back alley fight. In keeping with the tradition that he had set all those years ago, he was outmatched, his opponent both bigger and stronger. But boneheaded though they were, the bullies that he used to challenge to fights that he was only destined to lose were still very much human men. His rival now was quite the opposite, a towering, aggressive beast who seemed to have a personal vendetta to settle. With a coat of thick, unruly fur, it was clawed and fanged in the most intimidating possible way. Though he did his best to avoid direct contact, an angry slash across his shoulder had torn through the rough leather of Steve's jacket and left behind a ragged, bleeding gash. Fortunately, it was the other arm with which he held the shield, swinging it over his head now to deflect a blow that thundered in the cramped setting. Despite its many tactical inconveniences, Steve was grateful to have managed to corner the beast in here, the alley being far preferable to the possibility of others on the street getting hurt. If not the constant clang of metal and claw, then the repeated roaring should have kept even the most curious at a distance. But from the corner of his eye, Steve watched a figure round the corner.

In the heat of battle, he forgot all about the existence of T.J. Hammond. Instead, he saw Bucky Barnes, inexplicably alive and well and coming to his rescue just as he had in their youth. He froze just long enough for the beast to swing a heavy fist at his midsection. The force was such that Steve was lifted into the air and hurled into the brick wall behind him.