A/N I wanted to write a de-aged fic, but I didn't really want Steve to be a kid, because he was the only one who would completely lose his abilities. Anyway, he's far more fun to write as an adult. And yet I wanted all the others to be kids, even Thor. So then some dark corner of my mind suggested waking Steve up about thirty years too early.

Hang on. I'm a British teenager. I'm trying to write about America in the early 1980s.

On self-esteem and Stark-tech grounds, it's going to look and feel like America in the 21st century (which I still know nothing about, but hey). It's probably easiest to imagine as WWII having happened in the 60s/70s, which makes everyone the right age(ish), except in 2012 rather than 1982. And time clearly goes faster on Asgard than on Midgard.

Steve blinked open bleary eyes. Upon noticing his surroundings, he squeezed them shut again and wished that the world would just go away and leave him alone. Then he realised that this approach didn't lead to a long-term solution to his current predicament, so he resigned himself to fate.

Tentatively, he forced his eyes open a fraction, allowing the light to scorch his brain in the vague hope that God was merely joking the first time around.

Why was he still alive?

There were distinct memories of crashing a plane into an iceberg, and although they seemed somewhat faint and distorted, they were definitely there and had definitely happened. Which was more concerning than reassuring, really; granted, there weren't exactly many test subjects for the super-soldier serum, but he was pretty certain that he definitely shouldn't be alive, thinking, breathing and wherever the hell he was now. Which, judging by his surroundings, was some kind of military hospital - probably someplace back in America.

How did they find him?

Again, iceberg. Plane. He'd known the military was good, but not this good. He would have expected them to take at least fifteen years to find him, buried in snow and ice as he was. And besides, they had bigger things to focus on. Like the war.

How much had he missed, exactly? What happened while he had been lying here, useless in his recovery? Was he still in time for that dance with Peggy? It seemed too much to hope for, but still…

Confused as he was, one thing was clear in his mind: he needed answers, and answers did not come from lying in a hospital bed.

Leo watched the video feed in utter boredom as Captain America snored peacefully, completely oblivious to the new, shiny world around him. He tried to imagine what it would be like, waking up thirty years in the future, and grudgingly decided that the war hero was probably better off asleep after all.

Swinging his feet onto the control panel, he flicked the switch to turn the comm. in his ear on and took a swig of the coffee by his side.

"Matt, he's not doing anything," he whined into his earpiece at his friend and fellow agent.

"Sucks to be you," Matt said in irritation. He had drawn the short straw and was currently raiding the store cupboard for towels, standard issue clothes and toiletries for two new transfers that Agent Fury, his boss, had somehow picked up. "Do you have any idea how hard it is to find anything in this mess?"

"Having fun?" Leo teased. He'd recently been transferred from Fury's squad to help Agent Coulson keep an eye on the recently-rediscovered super-soldier, and had managed to evade babysitting the nine-year-old terrors.

"Bucketloads," Matt groaned. "You'd think, wouldn't you, that given that this is the Junior division, they'd have stuff that wasn't all Large, or Extra-Large. But nope, why would they bother thinking of something like that?"

"Naw... go wash it, maybe it'll shrink," Leo said helpfully.

"I'm going to murder Fury. Wish the Council would let us move to that New York warehouse already. I swear they come up with this stuff on pur- Oh, hi, Agent Fury, didn't see you there!" Matt put on a falsely cheery and utterly unconvincing voice as he apparently walked into the man in question. "Oh no, I was just saying how good it is that there's so much stuff in here, um, and it's so easy to find... shut up, Leo!" he hissed in annoyance. "What? Oh, nothing, I didn't say anything, nothing at all...yes, that's right..." Matt trailed off as Fury began what was undoubtedly one of his famous and lengthy rants.

Leo reluctantly muted Matt's channel and turned back to monitoring Rogers, smirking at his friend's misadventure. His grin was quickly wiped from his face as he saw the super-soldier sitting up in bed. He flipped the intercom back on quickly.

"Matt, we have a, uh, issue..." he began.

"What? Leo, I'm kind of busy being ranted at," Matt muttered.

"Well, I don't know, gag him or something, just get rid of him; Cap's smelt a rat," Leo cursed, pushing random buttons in order to get a better angle on Rogers' expression. There was no textbook on dealing with time-displaced, super-powered war heroes, and Coulson would probably carve his brains out if anything went even remotely south on his watch. Coulson had always been creepily over-protective of the war hero. Which was partly why he had been assigned watch duty in the first place, but still.

"Oh poo. Okay, I'm coming, hang on," Matt groaned. Leo heard him excuse himself and run down the corridor.

Leo swivelled round in his chair to face the door as it opened to reveal a panting Matt.

"You got out of that one incredibly quickly," Leo commented.

"Didn't give him time to stop me," Matt flashed a quick grin before glancing at the video feed.

"Okay, what did you say his name was again?"

"Steve."

Matt rolled up his sleeves. "Right, well I'll just go and get him then."

"What? But we don't have clearance to tell him anything, he's just gonna get annoyed –" Leo pointed out, but Matt was already out the door. "Crap," he muttered to himself. Mentally preparing for what was bound to ensue, he watched a miniaturised Matt approach Rogers, who looked a bit dazed to say the least.

"Hey," Matt began with a smile clearly intended to be reassuring. "Look, I know this is all a bit strange and I really shouldn't be in your room, but, uh, the thing is, this isn't actually your room. And um, yeah, this is probably one of those if-I-told-you-I'd-have-to-kill-you situations. I've always wanted to be in one of them, you know?"

Rogers stared at him.

"Okay, let's try this a different way. We've uh, kidnapped you... although the term 'kidnapped' is a bit strong... Bad Dobby!" Matt hit himself on the head. "Sorry, don't have clearance to tell you that..."

"Matt, you're meant to be trying to be normal," Leo reminded him. "Maybe you'd better bring him here."

"Okay. On it," Matt said. "Right, Stevie, Cap, Capsicle, whatever you want to be called, follow me or the yellow brick road to freedom or infinity and beyond or something." Leo watched him stride out, and a moment later Rogers followed.

The door opened again and the two of them entered. Rogers looked utterly bewildered and stood awkwardly in the corner, staring around at the monitors in bemusement. Anyone looking at him would have thought he was seeing it all for the first time – which, come to think of it, he probably was.

"Leo, what are we going to do?" Matt hissed.

"I don't know - this was your idea!" Leo shot back. This was definitely not how his morning was meant to go.

"We can't tell him where he is, we don't have clearance."

"That's exactly what I told you!"

"Well why didn't you say so?"

"What?"

"Who are you?" Rogers finally interrupted, his voice laden with suspicion.

"The tooth fairy," Matt replied helpfully.

"I'm Leo Hawkins, this is Matt Parker," Leo sighed. That at least was information he could divulge, right? Surely it was better to give away some of the answers, pretend to be totally transparent for as long as it took for Coulson to get here? Admittedly not a great plan in the long run, but then the long run involved Coulson being there to smooth everything over, so he could deal with all the goddamn repercussions as far as Leo was concerned. What really mattered at the moment was keeping Captain America there, talking and relatively contained, for as long as possible.

"Don't diss his accent, he gets annoyed easily," Matt added, referring to the distinct Irish lilt to his friend's voice.

"Shut up, Matt. What are we going to tell Coulson?"

"I don't know, he's your boss!"

"Why am I here?" Rogers tried again at what seemed to be a valiant attempt at making sense of the situation. "Where exactly is here?"

Leo looked at Matt, trying to convey that this was all his fault and that he was therefore going to be the one to answer.

I use that look far too much.

"Right. Well. Um." Matt floundered. Leo kicked him. "Okay, uh, this is all a dream."

Leo buried his head in his hands. Coulson was going to murder them.

A/N Hey everyone, Hawk here. Originally I was going to wait until I'd finished I'm Alive before I started posting this, but I'm not especially good at waiting, so here you go. I'm writing it as I go, so don't expect updates to be that frequent, but reviews can always help the writing process along ;)

I'll post a summary of the current situation as the next chapter, just so it's clear to everyone when this is, who's who and how old everyone is at the moment. Matt and Leo are my OCs, and they're basically here for comic relief and as a backup PoV because all the current adults are really hard to write :/ Don't worry, they won't be dominating the story.

Feedback on the concept, OCs and stuff would be greatly appreciated, even if you don't like them. Also visit the poll on my profile page - which Avengers do you find it easiest to write/understand?

Thanks,

Hawk :D