The landing gear began to fold up into the Valkyrie's underbelly as she took to the air, Steve bracing a leg over the metal shaft of the wheels and wrapping an arm around the thick cables that hung alongside as the apparatus turned horizontal and was lifted into the hull. He lifted his head from the collection as the panelling shut him inside, gazing about the dark interior as the wheels slowed their turning before turning and lifting himself over the gear to then vault onto one of the long railed bridges running through the space. He took a couple of cautious steps, and then slowed, staring out at the immense missiles labeled neatly in white paint: 'Chicago,' 'Boston,' and 'New York'.

His wide eyes remained fixed on the payload as he dwelled on the effects, dragging up along it to the glass-covered pilot's seat just as the metallic echoes of a metal door and footsteps called his awareness. Four HYDRA agents filed out along the bridge just below him, and he immediately leapt to grab hold of one of the bars on the ceiling and swung a fierce kick to the last in line, the agent tumbling over the opposite rail. The others turned as he landed and steadied himself, the closest drawing a knife from his boot and charging.

He turned the shield on his back toward the thrust and then knocked his elbow up into the arm wielding the weapon, grabbing the agent and slamming him onto the rail as another ran at him and Steve kicked him in the stomach. The third turned and darted to the missile he was to be heading, but Steve took the knife from the agent in his hold and stepped back to throw it to land solidly into the other's back.

_________________________________________________________________

The agent freed stood and drove a punch forward, but Steve caught it between his raised forearms and then punched him back down. Suddenly the propellers at the tail of the Chicago missile began to spin as the agent kicked back stumbled towards it, having powered it up, Steve turning at the sudden sound of wind and seeing him grab hold of the ceiling to enter the cockpit. The blond darted to the control panel on the bridge as the other agent followed him, climbing down the ladder behind him. He flipped the switch and pressed the red button corresponding to the missile's compartment before, at the sight of the green light, he pulled the level along the side.

The panelling underneath the bomb opened to the missile dropping toward the ocean surface far below, the agent left hanging kicking his legs for purchase before his grip let go and he fell into the open air to follow it with a scream. The agent beside the Captain threw a punch that the blond caught before returning his own punch, and then spun to duck under the agent at his back's punch and jump up to elbow and then punch him in the face. Then he lifted him from where he had fallen with a groan over his head, and hurled him to fall out of the jet as well.

Another missile's propellers began to spin, and Steve dashed toward it as the glass over the cockpit slid closed over the agent piloting. He lifted his shield to secure it to his arm as he circled the bomb, then climbed onto the shell to kneel and bring the rim down onto the cover only for another agent to dive forward and crash into him. The vibranium disc flew off to the side, and the agent inside the missile turned to flip the red switch and press the button that dropped the payload for New York out of the plane.

Steve held onto the purchase he had found on the casing as the agent at his back held onto him, the Captain repeatedly elbowing backward in an attempt to dislodge his grip. Wings fanned out at the sides of the missile, the pilot, upon glimpsing the men above, steering erratically to displace them. He tilted to the side, then dove down, the two sliding to the nose, and then jerked up. Steve's legs scrambled for friction as he kicked out over the wing, sliding along the shell before catching hold of the rudder. The agent sliding along the other side skated headfirst into the spinning propeller with a choked scream, slashed into a spray of gore that trailed through the air behind.

Steve maintained his uncertain grip in the extreme wind as the pilot tried to assess the presence of the men, then the Captain shoved the cover forward with a grunt to reach into the cockpit and pull the red lever beside the seat to eject the agent. His chair was propelled out into the air, and then Steve moved into the vacated area to the cover sliding closed above him. He took control of the joystick and steered toward the Valkyrie, gritting his teeth in determination as he sped to overtake her and then circled around in front of Schmidt's view.

_________________________________________________________________

Schmidt sneered at the sight and activated the gun turrets on top of the Valkyrie, azure rays streaking out to Steve's alarm and furious dodging and weaving to evade the blasts. The top of his rudder was hit as he rounded the craft, and he corrected his course to fly straight at the larger plane. He aimed between her rear thrusters to one of the two small openings into her underbelly, wincing as the sides of the sensitive bomb scraped her interior beams of metals.

Its came to a stop as its nose hit a protrusion, Steve forcing himself out of the aircraft and to his shield, which he lifted and secured to his arm with a heavy exhale.

_________________________________________________________________

Unknown to the duo, Scarlet was heading straight for the Valkyrie, flying as fast as she could.

She dove down heading for the ocean.

_________________________________________________________________

He cautiously swung open one of the doors exiting from the hanger, furtively glancing around as he entered onto the long bridge. The Tesseract shone out of the central mechanism from where she powered the plane, the back of the pilot's chair dark against the daylight streaming through the expanse of windows. He crept silently down the steps with his shield born in front of his body, breathing through his mouth as he edged down the left aisle.

He moved closer while suspiciously darting his gaze around the space, craning awkwardly to look across into the seat only to find it empty as Schmidt stepped out of the shadows behind him with a gun. Steve spun and raised his shield for the azure beam to ricochet and smash through the panes of glass behind him.

"You don't give up, do you?" Schmidt drawled with an incredulous shake of his head.

"Nope," he quipped, rushing forward as the Red Skull fired to hit the surface of the vibranium once more and then again, before Steve slammed the weapon out of his hands as he darted to hit him with it.

The blond punched him, and then swiped his shield for the rim to slice by Schmidt's neck as he stepped back, lunging forward again to punch the Captain in the stomach and then across his face. He grabbed a hold of the material of the back of his uniform to toss him away from where he dropped his shield from the impact.

He landed on his hands and knees, and Schmidt kicked his midriff, aiming another kick to his head that Steve halted, grasping his foot and jerking him forward too unbalance him. The two clutched at each other as they grappled briefly, and then Steve managed to climb to his feet and propel them across the aisle to slam Schmidt's back against the wall, although his successful punch was with a force that threw both men to the ground.

Steve turned and grabbed a container with rounded rim, recovering first to knock Schmidt's head into the floor as he stood before tossing the aid away. He then heaved the man to his feet and gathered him in a chokehold from behind. Schmidt struggled before writhing to swing them over the device holding the Cube, Steve releasing his hold as they crashed to the ground again.

Steve scrambled away and lurched for his shield, raising her to bring her down upon Schmidt's form as he charged him, but he managed to tear her from the blond's arm as he punched him in the stomach and slammed her across his face. He then used her surface to press Steve back against the device with a snarl, but Steve surged forward with a head butt and took his shield back, shoving him with her to hit the back of the chair and tip it into the control console.

Schmidt winced at the impact as the steering lever was tilted down amidst sparks behind him, Steve thrown to topple to the floor as the airplane dove downward abruptly. The Valkyrie streaked through the clear sky at dawn toward sea level as Steve flew to a corner of the ceiling at the acceleration and Schmidt was pitched to him. They spun over each other with the force of their punches and kicks before Schmidt managed to knock Steve across the ceiling. As the blond flailed Schmidt climbed down one of the metal beams to leap to the series of panels, pressing a couple of buttons and flicking the switch to activate autopilot.

_________________________________________________________________

Behind the Valkyrie, Scarlet rose up from the clouds once again. She flapped her wings once before gliding behind. Steam curled off her entire body and wings.

_________________________________________________________________

Steve landed harshly on the grating of the bridge as the plane leveled out, the Red Skull turning from his stand on higher ground as he drew his handgun from his hip. He turned toward him as he stepped down from the platform. "You could have the power of the gods!" he taunted, firing while Steve flinched and ducked down. "Yet you wear a flag on your chest and think you fight a battle of nations!"

He shot again, the ray hitting one of the many metal supports. "I have seen the future, Captain." Another beam was fired, impacting the wall behind the blond. "There are no flags!"

"Not my future!" Steve shouted.

Another shot soared over him as he jumped to roll across the center aisle, raising his shield to deflect the next ray before he reeled back and threw his shield with grit teeth and a yell. She spun to hit him in the stomach, and he was hurled back forcefully to collide with the mechanism in the center of the bridge.

Azure sparks danced over the appliance at the damage, a whirl of blinding light exploding up from the Cube before it dispersed in scattered rays that patterned the ceiling and fell to wrap the girth of the machine.

Steve stared.

"What have you done?" Schmidt called, stumbling to the device.

"No."  He muttered, at the Tesseract's displacement from the core, taking the precious Cube into his hand.

She sparked before shining brightly, energy shooting upward to glint and gather at the edges of the ceiling. Another vision was suddenly granted through the surface, a dark galaxy backlit by clusters of stars within an expanse of space speckled with light. Schmidt held his arms aloft while his eyes captured the visualisation, Steve immobilised off to the side. Then the Cube gleamed dangerously, her power concentrating on Schmidt's form and beginning to pull his flesh from his bones.

Steve stared as the hand holding the Tesseract was torn up by the radiation; Schmidt screamed while it climbed up his arm, across his collar, and scored the skin covering his skull. The Captain flinched sharply as the azure glare flared and raised his arms to cover his face as he turned away, the other's entire body encompassed in the energy, disintegrated, and drawn upward to the dim stars directly above.

_________________________________________________________________

The sharp, jagged beam collapsed in on itself from its travel into the heavens, falling back to the interior as the aftershock soared out from the Valkyrie. Steve panted as the glow rescinded, once more confined to the Cube as she fell to the grating of the bridge. Scarlet burst through the broken glass, landing on the bridge in her human appearance, unaware of the Tesseract. He picked up his shield as the Tesseract melted the material underneath to continue downward and through the bottom surface of the place, tumbling through the whistling wind below. Scarlet fell through the hole.

"No!" Steve screamed in aguish. Not even a week ago, he watched his best friend fall to his death in the mountains. Now he was watching his other best friend fall to her death into the ocean. He watched until he couldn't see, or hear, her anymore, crying in aguish.

He dashed to the control board as he placed the shield aside before unclipping and removing his cowl, taking a seat in the pilot's chair and turning to address the damage that had been taken. He adjusted his seat and grabbed the steering yoke, glancing across to one of the navigation screens that swung from the targeted New York City to the ocean currently being traversed over. He stared out into the middle distance as the wind breezed through the broken glass and fluttering flurries of snow brushed past his face.

_________________________________________________________________

Peggy stood in front of Colonel Phillips in the HYDRA base's command center. "Come in. This is Captain Rogers. Do you read me?" He radioed.

_________________________________________________________________

"Captain Rogers, what is your-" Jim answered.

Peggy strode over, leaned over his shoulder. "Steve, is that you? Are you all right?" She overrode as she pushed him out of the chair to replace his seat.

_________________________________________________________________

"Peggy, Schmidt's dead." Steve replied.

"What about the plane?" her voice asked as Steve kept one hand on the steering controls as his left experimented with the switches whose connections were not damaged.

He aborted a shake of his head in helplessness. "That's a little bit tougher to explain."

_________________________________________________________________

"G-Give me your coordinates – I'll find you a safe landing site," she said, prepared over her own controls in the calm of the base, Jim and Phillips standing behind her.

_________________________________________________________________

He paused for a second before answering. "There's not gonna be a safe landing." He surveyed the six missiles that were still held in the cargo bay and the damage to the mechanics of the plane. "But I can try and force it down."

_________________________________________________________________

Phillips tapped Jim on the shoulder and jerked a finger to motion their exit. "I-I'll get Howard on the line – he'll know what to do." Peggy responded quickly.

_________________________________________________________________

"There's not enough time. This thing's moving too fast and its heading for New York." The cold wind rushed in as he sat panting, gazing out into the sky. "I gotta put her in the water." He answered.

_________________________________________________________________

"Please, don't do this. W-We have time- We can work it out." Her voice caught as she pleaded, eyes glistening.

_________________________________________________________________

"Right now I'm in the middle of nowhere," he explained, symbol displayed over the water moving toward shore. "If I wait any longer, a lot of people are gonna die."

The Valkyrie glided through the sparse cloud cover, sky bereft of other craft. "Peggy," he comforted earnestly, "this is my choice."

_________________________________________________________________

She closed her eyes in concession, moving to shake her head in an act of silent protest as she pressed her lips together.

_________________________________________________________________

Steve manoeuvered an object out of his pocket, revealing a compass as he opened it and propped it up against the face of one of the dials before him. Peggy's image stared at him from the cover, and he gazed at it mournfully before returning his attention to the task at hand.

He resolutely tilted the yoke down, and the aircraft dove sharply. He stared at her for a moment as the altitude meter steadily decreased.

_________________________________________________________________

"Peggy?"

"I'm here."

The icy shoreline drew closer in the spread of windowpanes.

"I'm gonna need a rain check on that dance."

_________________________________________________________________

She inhaled sharply as she gathered herself, a tear under an eye. "All right." She answered. She cast her eyes to the floor. "A week, next Saturday, at the Stork Club." She declared.

_________________________________________________________________

"You got it." Steve answered.

The Valkyrie sped onward.

"8 o' clock on the dot – don't you dare be late. Understood?"

His eyes never wavered from the encroaching land. "You know, I still don't know how to dance." He remarked.

_________________________________________________________________

"I'd hate to step on your-"

His voice abruptly cut off to give way to static over the radio.

"Steve?" Her eyes closed as she sniffed. "Steve?" She pleaded again, Phillips averted his gaze, lowering his head as she sobbed. "Steve?" She continued to call out as her tears fell. He turned and walked away, and she held her head in her hands.

_________________________________________________________________

The ice and snow was gouged with deep furrows along the coast, the metal debris and massive piece of a wing imbedded in the sea of white a trail to the crashed Valkyrie, nose deep in the land.

Steve had been knocked out and had slid from the pilot's chair. In his unconscious state, he looked above him to see a light with a person standing in front of it.

"Hey Punk."

"Buck?" Steve asked squinting.

Bucky nodded as he sat down next to Steve, "I'm here."

"How?" Steve asked confused.

"I told you I'd be with you til the end of the line... well this is it." Bucky told him.

"We can't do this to her." Steve told him.

"She's tough. Scarlet will get through this. Besides when the time comes, she'll have James at her side. He'll help her." Bucky told him.

"Is... it painful?" Steve asked. "Dying?"

Bucky shook his head, "Just like falling asleep."

Her weight crushed some of the formations beneath her, and she slowly sank down into the water below as her thrusters smoked.

Steve gasped in water and with Bucky by his side, went to sleep.

_________________________________________________________________

"What's going on? Is everything okay?"

Peggy turned her chair sharply to look at Scarlet, who immediately noticed the tears. Tears that could only mean one thing.

"Peggy?"

Peggy took a shaky breath and licked her lips. "It's Steve," her voice broke and she took a moment to cover her mouth and regain some composure. "He uh...he...there-there were bombs onboard the plane. He...couldn't make a safe landing, so he...he took the plane down...into the ocean. He's gone," Peggy finished in a whisper.

Scarlet couldn't believe what she was hearing. Her brain wouldn't accept it. "No," she shook her head. "No, you're-you're wrong. Alright? He wouldn't do that. He wouldn't leave me like that. He said he was going to be careful. He's coming back."

"I'm so sorry, but he did. He's gone."

Scarlet's throat began to tighten and she was suddenly unable to bring in air. A buzzing filled her ears and the room seemed to tip on her. This couldn't be happening. Not again. She had just lost Bucky. She couldn't lose Steve too.

Someone was touching her, grabbing her arms and trying to pull her into a hug.

She could hear someone screaming.

She was screaming.

The wail that she had subdued after Bucky's death refused to be held back. It forced its way from inside her and ripped its way past her throat.

The scream turned into sobs. Hot tears were streaming down her cheeks, and she made no effort to stop them. She didn't care about who was in the room and watching her.

She finally allowed herself to be pulled in, and fell against Peggy's shoulder. She didn't know when she ended up on her knees. She didn't know how long Peggy held her, gently running her hand through Scarlet's hair and attempting to whisper words of comfort.

Time didn't seem real anymore.

Her entire purpose for existence was gone. She had failed at the job that she'd been doing for as long as she could remember.

She failed and Steve had paid the price.

_________________________________________________________________

Teeming crowds cheered in London as other planes returned, the Union Jack waved in a multitude of hands as the people celebrated. 'V-DAY! IT'S OVER IN EUROPE' was emblazoned on newsprint as uniformed soldiers threw up their hats and film reels recorded the men reunited with their women.

People were celebrating the final end of the war. The Allies had won. Just as Scarlet, Steve and Bucky had always hoped and planned on. Life would be able to get going again for millions of people around the world.

"Excuse me," Scarlet sidestepped a young woman, experiencing tunnel vision, on her way to embrace a man. "Congratulations," she muttered, wishing more than anything that she could be feeling the joy that she was viewing on both of their faces. She couldn't even remember what it felt like to feel that much joy.

She continued pushing her way through the crowds until she reached the table where the guys were all waiting.

They all stood when they saw her.

"We didn't think you'd come," Gabe said.

"I almost didn't," she admitted, her right hand finding the pressure point in her left hand.

"Well we're glad you did," Dum Dum replied.

"Here," Jim held up a glass for her. "Just one," he insisted gently, noticing Scarlet's reluctance.

She slowly accepted the glass.

They all picked up and raised their own glasses.

That's when Scarlet noticed two glasses still sitting on the table. Glasses meant for two who should have been there.

Six glasses clinked together. "To the Captain," James toasted, him, Dugan, Gabe, Jacques, Scarlet and Jim drinking solemnly to the man. Around them, couples hugged, clapped hands, and drank in festivity.

"And Sergeant Barnes." Dugan added.

Tears pricked Scarlet's eyes, but she pushed down the urge to fall apart again and took a drink. Around them, couples hugged, clapped hands, and drank in festivity.

_________________________________________________________________

In a dark expanse of water, a searching robot drifted with long arms and hands to the azure glow of the Cube resting on the ocean floor.

Howard stood in his ship, staring at a picture of himself and Scarlet. It had been taken one night they went dancing. Scarlet had been so stressed about her two boys, that Howard insisted they go. She was laughing in it. Her head was thrown back as she danced in Howards arms, who was clearly looking at her with loving eyes. He's kept the photo in his pocket ever since.

"Sir," one of the seamen on the bridge called, Howard turning from where he was gazing out the window at the sheets of ice in the Arctic Ocean being navigated through. He stashed the picture into his jacket pocket. He approached where the man stood in front of a screen relaying the camera feed of the robot, standing to watch as the machine grasped the powerful object.

"Take us to the next grid point," he ordered of the man that had come up beside him.

He stepped away to obey. "But there's no trace of wreckage," the other pointed out, looking to him. "And the energy signature stops here."

Howard moved his stare onto the stretch before them. "Just keep looking." He ordered.

He couldn't give up on looking for Steve or Scarlet. This was not how their stories were suppose to end. He could feel it.

And oh, how right he was.

_________________________________________________________________

Phillips strode through SHIELD's underground headquarters with file in hand and hung at his side as soldiers and scientists organised and packed away all of their files. He came to stand alongside where Peggy stood at an assortment of boxes, handing another file off to the woman beside her before turning to him and looking down at the sheaf he held in his hands. "Have you heard from Scarlet?" Peggy asked Grace. After coming home, Scarlet, with Howard's help, got a plane and started her journey to look for Bucky as well as her other liquid metal half.

"Last I heard she said no luck yet. But give her a week." Grace replied. Phillips left it in front of Peggy, and then cast his eyes to the ground and walked away, and she slowly lifted it with furrowed brow.

She read, 'Strategic Scientific Reserve: Case Study BC283-33; CLASSIFIED; Captain America,' and the red stamp declaring it 'INACTIVE,' before inhaling deeply and opening the cover. Surname, Christian name, address, military service no., date and place of birth, married, widower or single status, next-of-kin and relationship of were all information from Camp Lehigh glossed over, Peggy pausing at the sight of a portion of the photograph attached, the rest hidden by the flap of the folder. She breathed bracingly, glancing away as she pressed her lips together before gently sliding the picture out and lifting the image.

Steve stood at attention wincing in the harsh sunlight, hair hanging limply over his forehead while his thin shoulders pulled the material of the white tee that elsewhere hung loose. His dog tags fell from around his neck to his chest.

_________________________________________________________________

A round trash can lid with interior painted in rings of red and white, star on blue in the center, was held in hand by a young boy, who beckoned to others. He led a group of five boys through the streets as they ran in play.

_________________________________________________________________

2011

All tangled up in her soft sheets, Scarlet unconsciously buried herself further into her pillows and sighed. The world outside her four walls were already up and moving, only to be ignored by her as she continued to sleep contently. She was still soundly asleep in the warmth of the bed. That was, until the sun managed to sneak through a crack in her curtains and land directly on her face, disturbing her slumber. With a loud groan, she turned, still mostly asleep, trying to escape the inevitable need to wake up. "Too fucking early." She grumbled, rolling over to face her boyfriend, Ikaris.

In the distance, she could hear the sounds of car engines revving away as they sped down the roads of Monaco.

Ikaris groaned lowly, rubbing his face slowly and running his hand through his disheveled hair whilst he looked at the time. 10am, not as bad as what he has originally thought but could be better in his opinion. "It's 10 am sweetheart, come on." He purred with his morning voice, the words coming out much deeper than what he had originally thought they would. "Time to get up."

"Morning, handsome." She answered, opening one eye. God, that morning voice of his was rather attractive and dare she say it sexy. "What's the plan for rest of the day?" She wondered, rubbing the sleep out of her eyes with the back of her hand before turning her head towards the window and blinked, raising an arm up to shield her eyes from the sunlight. "Wow." She gawked. "I didn't think it would ever stop raining." She murmured. "What a nice surprise to wake up to."

He glanced outside and couldn't help but feel a smile appear upon his lips seeing the skies had cleared from the heavy rain from the day prior, his dishevelled state glancing at the woman besides him, his strong arm rested on her lower back, drawing figures on her skin with his fingers. She sighed contently as she pressed her lips softly to his jaw, peppering it with kisses.

"Do we have plans for the day?" Ikaris murmured quietly, turning his head slightly to look into her eyes.

"Don't think so." She responded.

"Good." He answered quickly.

Scarlet laughed as he grabbed a hold of her waist and pulled her up so her legs were now on either side of his body.

"And why's that good, King of The North?" He smiled at the Game of Thrones reference.

"Don't wanna leave this bed today. Don't wanna leave you. Ever."

She smiled brightly at him. "So, we don't do anything today. Just you and me. We can do nothing today, because we have the rest of forever to do other stuff." She kissed him.

"I love you."

He rested his forehead against hers, closing his eyes for a brief moment. "I love you too."

_________________________________________________________________

Faint, indistinct chatter drifted through the space as Steve's fair eyes fluttered open, an announcer describing a baseball game as he blinked into consciousness. "...pitches, and it's a curve ball, high and outside for ball one. So, the Dodgers are tied: 4-4. And the crowd well knows that with one swing of his bat, this fellow's capable of making it a brand-new game again." His brows furrowed as he tilted his head slightly toward the source. "Just an absolutely gorgeous day here at Ebbets Field." The man remarked.

He continued to appear confused as he turned away to survey the room, a fan slowly rotating above where he lay on top of a made bed. "The Phillies have managed to tie it up at 4-4, but the Dodgers have three men on." The small lamp was switched on, on the night table to his right, though sunshine streamed in the open window and the curtains waved in a light breeze.

He levered himself up and swung his legs over the side of the bed, gazing into the middle distance with his hands on the edge of the mattress as he listened. "Pearson beaned Reiser in Philadelphia last month – wouldn't the youngster like a hit here to return the favour? Pete leans in. Here's the pitch. Swung on." He abruptly turned to cast his eyes to stare at the window behind before switching it onto the little radio on the desk on the other side of the room he had glanced over. He gaped as it continued to dispatch. "A line to the right, and it gets past Rizzo! Three runs will score. Reiser heads to third, Durocher's going to wave him in! Here comes the relay but they won't get him."

The sound of the door at the end of the bed opening drew his eyes, and a woman with dark hair curling over her shoulders stepped in. She wore a white blouse with a sharp tie done up over it, a long fitted skirt rising to her waist and falling to just below her knees. "Good morning." She smiled and greeted.

"Pete Reiser with an inside the park Grand Slam..." the radio imparted as she turned slightly to softly shut the door behind her.

She looked at her watch. "Or should I say afternoon?" She added, coming to a halt before him.

"Where am I?" he questioned.

She opened her mouth before quickly beginning again. "You're in a recovery room in New York City." She answered.

He turned to the radio again and concentrated on the account of the game. "The Dodgers take the lead 8-4. Oh, Dodgers! Everyone is on their feet. What a game we have here today, folks. What a game, indeed."

His eyes flashed back to her. "Where am I really?" He forcefully asked again.

She huffed a laugh with a slight shrug. "I'm afraid I don't understand." She replied.

"The game," Steve retorted, "it's from May, 1941 – I know 'cause I was there." Her smile fell and she pressed her lips together, impassive.

He stood warily and squared up to her. "Now I'm going to ask you again..." He stared down at her. "Where am I?"

She pressed a button on the slim device hidden in her hand and a red light flashed, attempting to placate him. "Captain Rogers,"

"Who are you?" Steve interrupted brusquely.

The door opened at her back and she moved away as two armed soldiers entered, Steve's eyes widening in surprise as he took a couple of steps back. His eyes glanced between the two as he gathered himself, straightening his shoulders.

The men were hurled through the metal-reinforced drywall of the room to land flat on their backs, stunned, amidst the debris, and Steve leapt through the hole to look around at the concrete and metal expanse of the hall outside. He glanced to the side where a stretch of 'wall' depicted the familiar building shapes that had shown through the 'window' and quickly spun to run from the facsimile, despite the woman's insistent calls. "Captain Rogers, wait!"

She awkwardly climbed through the hole as he crashed through the exit doors, drawing a radio to relay an order. "All agents, Code 13," She announced the order as two other armed men appeared from behind her to pursue the Captain.

_________________________________________________________________

"I repeat, all agents, Code 13," echoed over the P.A. system as Steve came to a stop panting in the middle of the adjacent hall. He threw his head from side to side before those in suits and body armour going about their business were alerted to his presence and began pointing and giving chase. He flailed as he turned and ducked his head, violently dashing to slam his way past the couple of agents in his path and continue on out of the building.

_________________________________________________________________

He sped out through the glass doors of one of the many polished buildings on the block, weaving through the mass of business people walking briskly to and from their places of work along the sidewalk and onto the street. He paused for only a second, standing between the incoming taxi and blue car as they honked jarringly, before sprinting with the traffic and only stopping again when stunned by Times Square.

He whirled around at the large advertisements and television screens broadcasting the food, entertainment, and hotels of downtown Manhattan, mouth hanging open at the colours and technology and movement of the time he was abruptly thrust into.

A series of black SUVs honked authoritatively as they drove through the crowds into the area to form a barricade, and he faced the bright headlights.

"At ease, soldier," a commanding voice called from behind him, and he turned away from the armed men to those in suits cordoning off the area. Director Fury stood in front of him, ensemble and eye patch black matt against the lustre of the city. He approached confidently as his men radioed orders to each other about reinforcements not being necessary and rerouting the traffic. "Look, I'm sorry about that little show back there, but we thought it best to break it to you slowly." He stated.

"Break what?" Steve breathed.

"You've been asleep, Cap. For almost seventy years." Fury answered straight-forwardly.

Steve blinked and stared with brows furrowed in distress at his surroundings, shaking his head as he inhaled and exhaled deeply, turning away to continue gazing at the billboards of the city skyscrapers. "You gonna be okay?" Fury asked in veiled concern as he watched.

"Yeah," he responded, "yeah, I just-" He stopped and stared. "I had a date."

"I'm sorry about that. Let's get you back to the building so that we can talk some more."

Steve turned to Fury and followed him into one of the many black cars surrounding them. They drove in silence until something that Fury had said brought up some questions for Steve.

"You said that you've dealt with a similar case to mine," Steve began. "You said that even how she survived is still unknown. How long were they in the ice?"

"She wasn't in the ice. You were the only one we found in the ice." Fury answered.

"Who is she?"

Fury sighed. "I guess this is as good a time as any." Fury looked Steve dead on. "It was your friend, Cap. Scarlet survived too."