1963-07-15 - Spitting Images
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burnside steve 


A beautiful day in the borough of Brooklyn, it's a scorcher today the children out in the streets playing in the fresh water of an opened up fire-hydrant, the chirp of birds sitting wistfully in the trees whistling their love songs to one another across the way. The bright blue sky is without a cloud in sight and a slight breeze ruffles through the trees.

Traveling down just one of many sidewalks is none other then William Burnside. As thoughts drift slowly backwards to days of his halcyon youth the muscular man of valor finds his feet carrying him back home. No matter what happened or how bad things got he knew he could come back here, and he knew the way like the back of his hand.

*

"See ya, Steve," says Rollie Douglas, the man behind the counter in a small diner in the Captain's old stomping grounds. "Good to have you back." It's been a long time since Rollie saw Steve, and the latter was quite smaller if not younger. There is a picture by the mirror behind the small business owner that shows an image of Rollie and Steve that was taken just before the young man headed out for his big day that changed his life forever.

Steve exits out the door and takes a quick left. He's wearing a tight fitting white t-shirt, jeans, and black boots and reaches to his neck to pull the sunglasses from his collar.

*

Burnside looks up towards the sky for a moment just taking in the sights the sounds and the smells a deep breath of air filling his lungs. He's dressed in a simple pair of tanish grey slacks, a bright blue jacket, a brown plaid button-down shirt, and a pair of his own sunglasses. He's off in his own world for a few moments and doesn't quite pay enough attention to where he's going to avoid almost plowing right into Steve.

*

"Pardon me," Steve replies as he's almost bowled over by the large blonde. He twists to the side in order to avoid the daydreamer, careful not to put a shoulder in his chest.

"Sorry," he says with a curt smile and a short nod as he continues to walk, not realizing the crazy coincidence that has just happened.

*

"Not a problem sir, it was my fault." Burnside responds in an almost identical voice to Steves own voice. The musclebound man giving a light smiling nod of his own before walking back along down the sidewalk leading the other way headed back towards the shop Steve had only just left.

He's placing his hand onto the doorway of the shop getting ready to introduce himself fresh to Rollie, before he takes a pause. A moment of realization dawns on him as he does something of a double take.

*

Steve continues down the walkway, then takes an abrupt right at the crosswalk. The side angle gives Burnside a better look at the Captain as he crosses the street and confirms, in fact, that it is Steve Rogers.

*

Burnside pauses for a long moment. He's walking across the street, and yet he's right here in front of the shop. He shakes his head for a moment before starting to head into the store. "You won't believe it, but I think I just bumped into myself." His voice somewhat incredulous as he speaks, moving towards the counter, a lighthearted laugh under his breath.

Yet at this same time just across the street a woman screams, and a gunshot rings out from the small store across the street. From inside the building a man with a bag and a stocking over his head comes running, an old gun still smoking in his hand, as he starts to make a run for it.

Burnside runs back to the entrance of the store placing a hand onto the frame. "That man just robbed the store across the street!" Before Rollie actually has time to process what is going on or even respond Burnside is running out of the building. Ripping open his buttondown shirt Burnside reveals the bright red white and blue uniform underneath, a quick motion made to throw on his mask as he runs after the man. "Stop right there!" He screams out.

*

"Actually, guy, you do kind of look like Steve. Just a bit older," Rollie says as he begins to wipe down a glass. "I've known that kid since he was a toddler. His ma and pa use to live not far from here.

As the gunshot rings out, Rollie runs to the phone and takes refuge behind a pillar. "Get me the police! Someone just shot somebody!"

At hearing the gunshot, Steve makes a quick turn and begins running toward where the shooter is running, gaining on him with every step.

"

*

Running fast as his legs can carry Burnside does his best to catch up with the thief while getting into costume. He's faster then most men in his condition, but as he gives his all it proves still not quite so fast as the genuine article. His legs burn as he gets up to his own personal top speed, the hip-holster holding his 1911 swaying back and fourth with each step.

His own Captain America costume is much closer to the original, even down to the little wings on either side of his head. "You can run criminal, but you can never hide, from justice!" He calls out reaching around to his back in order to grab his own shield, getting ready to throw it while unaware that the genuine article is on the way as well.

"Great, just what I need, some freak with a Halloween costume what thinks he's the law." The criminal calls back his own footing failing him slightly as he tries to keep up the pace. His own lack of physical fitness causing the distance to shrink fast between the men.

*

As Steve approaches, he does so in a soaring move to tackle the thief at the hip. As of yet he hasn't noticed Burnside, but after the tumble it's impossible not to. Steve gets up to a knee and looks at Burnside incredulously.

"Who are you?" he asks.

*

Burnside slows down to a skidding stop, his shield held in one arm, his other held out to one side. "Just a boy from Brooklyn." Burnside responds right back, flicking the shield back around onto his back. "That was a good save you made there, came right out of the blue." An audible click as the shield latches back into place. There's a slight pause before he speaks again adding with a pure confidence."Captain America, at your service."

His free hand reaches down to his belt to grab a small pair of handcuffs that were dangling down by the belt holster holding a standard issue 1911. "Now, let's cuff this criminal and get him to the proper authorities."

*

Steve takes a step backwards and tilts his head. He allows this crazy person to cuff the robber, but keeps a very careful eye on him. "Captain America? Funny, I thought he looked a bit different," Steve says with a furrowed brow. He makes a mental note to discuss this matter with SHIELD and see what they have on this guy. Pretending to be him isn't the worst thing in the world, but if this guy is unhinged, it's best to keep an eye on him.

"Got quite the gun there," Steve says, nodding towards the gun.

*

"Been getting that a lot lately." Burnside comments, reaching down to slap the pair of handcuffs onto the downed criminal. He looks back down slightly. A smile comes over his face as he pats down on it. "Hold-over from the war, saved my bacon plenty of times in Korea." There's a slight pause as he moves back to a stand. "Used to belong to my sidekick, Bucky. He was a good kid, didn't deserve what happened."

Genuine sadness in his eyes as he talks about his sidekick. He takes a deep breath, before continuing a slight clearing of his throat. "There's some misguided soul running around in a new costume pretending he's me." He comments adjusting his own belt muscles shining through the thin fabric of his classic suit. "He's been making it difficult for me to help protect the good people of America, I'm not sure if he's just misguided or some sort of Communist plant, but I plan on bringing him to justice, and stopping whatever villainous plot he has in mind." He looks right into Steve's eyes. "You wouldn't happen to know anything about him, would you?"

*

"Sir, I hate to tell you this, but I think you're sick. I think you need help and I can get you that help you need. Of course I know that man. That man's me."

Steve shakes his head, "Captain America wasn't in Korea, friend. Captain America was out of commission for the entire 1950s."

*

Burnside leans down towards Steve for a moment. "I'm not sure what your end game is, you cantankerous clone, but I'm onto you." He speaks with a confidence that's almost terrifying. "You might have the others fooled, but I know the truth, and I will expose you, and your evil plot."
He levels a single finger towards Steve the two men similar in so many ways, the only visible difference even in their voices the age of Burnside. "I'm not sure how you managed to erase these last few years from the hearts and minds of the people either, but rest assured I will make it right."

*

"Well," Steve says as he shrugs his shoulders, "Go ahead and take me in. Take me to the authorities. To the military. Let's go in together and let them decide. If you're right they'll put me behind bars. If I'm right, they'll be able to get you the help you need."

*

"Let's take this to the proper authorities, they'll help us get to the real bottom of this." Burnside states confidently giving a nod of agreement, his stance firm on the ground. He starts to turn away leading back towards the station when suddenly two more men run out from within the store, the third man running away in the opposite direction, as he spots his chance to flee.

*

Steve exhales and begins to chase after the two new runners, leaving the other to the Faux-Cap. It appears as if this will have to wait—there's no way that either of these men will allow innocents to be hurt. At least that's what Steve is betting on.

*

Burnside chases after the runner closest to him with all of his speed. He's using his full speed to chase after him shield coming back to the ready. "This isn't over yet, not by a long shot." Even as his voice grows more feint the man running around the corner to chase down the still handcuffed thief. His shield is thrown from his hand and the sound of the clang rings back out as he vanishes from view.

*

Steve chases the others around the corner and out of view. He hits the first and knocks him off his feet by slugging him in the back of the head, before tackling the second one.

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