"What's that? Friends back home?"
James nearly jumped a foot in the air when he heard Captain America's voice behind him. "Jesus Christ! What, don't people knock anymore?"
Steve frowned as he closed the flap of the tent, the only sign of light being from the lit lamp hanging from a hook. "Sure, if it were possible to knock on a tent flap." He saw a forlorn expression on the younger man's face. "Something's bothering you. Want to talk about it?"
James shook his head, his black hair bouncing a little as he did so. "No, I'm just a bit homesick, I guess." He lifted the black and white picture in his hands. "These are my friends. We grew up like family after most of our parents died."
"I'm sorry," Steve said. It wasn't the first time he knew about his friend's parent's death, but hearing it again didn't make it any better.
"Yeah, well, it's not your fault." He paused, thinking about something, and added, "I have a sister, too."
Steve turned around to face him, surprised. In the three years he had known the younger man, he had barely spoken of his family, and never once mentioned a sister.
He first met James when he was first injected with the serum, the day Dr. Abraham died. Then, he was maybe 19 years old, almost too young to be working in such a sophisticated lab, but Steve didn't question it. He was thin, like Steve once was, but he definitely packed muscle and strength. He looked awfully young as well, maybe sixteen back then, and now, three years later, he looked maybe 18. He was still a kid, and no matter how much of a facade he put up around the camp, Steve and Peggy were the only ones who saw through it; he was still just a kid.
"Her name's Sarah," James continued, having Steve pay attention to him again. "My dad adopted her. She's only a year younger than me." He pointed to a young girl with blonde hair in a ponytail, smiling into the camera, her arms around James and another girl who also had blonde hair braided. "And that's Astrid. She's a friend of ours, but they act like sisters more than anything. That's what we are, really. A big family."
Steve watched as he put the photo down, taking the small chest off his bed and unlocking it with a key he wore as a charm on a necklace. The chest was another thing precious to James; it contained all sort of memorabilia to him, something that Steve was curious to see, but never did as he didn't want to oppose in another person's personal property,
There was one big mission to do. Steve had a feeling that this mission was going to be the turning point in the war. He had lost Bucky only the day before, and no matter how much he had tried, he couldn't drown his sorrows in alcohol. Damn serum.
It was James who told him that there was really no point in doing so. "What's the point of grieving for a friend," he had said, "if you decide to do a stupid ass decision? You want to drink so you can forget. But forget what? Forget someone who meant so much to you? Forget the best friend and brother you've ever had? Forget the person who saved you from fights out in allies and ditches? Don't give me that look, I know all about them. My point is, drinking won't help with anything. It won't bring him back, it won't put ice on the grief, and it won't stitch the pain. The best you can do when someone you care about dies is make them proud from the beyond." He then proceeded to drink a shot of whiskey, only to spit it out. "God, that stuff's horrible. I don't understand how people can drink that."
James looked over his shoulder as he heard his superior of the Howling Commandos chuckle, shaking his shoulders. "What are you laughing at?"
"Just some old memories," Steve answered, and it was the truth. Not old necessarily, but still the truth.
He sat on his own bed. Even though Captain America was leading his own regimen, he did, however, have to share a tent with his second in command. It was originally Bucky, but after his fall, James was promoted. Steve could almost see Bucky in James, and not just because they shared the same first name. The hair color and style was almost similar, but if anything, some people would mistaken James and Steve for brothers. They were a few months apart in age, while Steve was more physically built, but James could almost equal on strength despite being shorter. Their faces were smooth and clean-shaven constantly, but James was definitely more acrobatic and agile than Steve was, using some kind of method called "parkour" to maneuver swiftly and efficiently through crowded and urban environments.
James nodded at Steve's answer answer and sat on his own bed, facing away from him. "Captain..." he drawled out slowly. "Can you keep a secret?"
In all the time they knew each other, Steve had only heard him call him by his name once, during their first meeting. Any their time he would be referred to as "Mr. Rogers," and after the promotional propaganda began, "Captain." He never once called him by his actual name since then, and whenever he questioned it, he only said that it just felt weird saying it. On a certain level, they developed a mutual form of trust. It was a good bond, strong and sturdy, and even though James would protect Steve with his life, he still revealed very little of himself. Heck, he didn't even know his last name!
This is why Steve was caught off guard when he was asked this question. "What?"
"There's something I need to tell you, and it's better I tell you know before the next assault on the Red Skull. Don't tell anyone?"
Steve knew that it was something very serious. There were very few times when James spoke in this sort of tone, adult-like and commanding and a leader. Any other time he would obey orders, tell a joke, or be casual with all ranking officers. This was something big.
"I promise," he finally said. "I know we've only known one another for a few years, but I've got your back. You've been with me almost as long as Peggy—er, Agent Carter has, and I trust her. You're the youngest out of all of us and we've been watching over you like parents would to a kid. Do you know how many times I've had to act like I'm your dad?"
James snorted, taking something out of his pocket. Whatever it was, Steve didn't recognize it. It was thing and slim, with a reflective surface. The other side was a shade of blue, but other than that, he had no idea what it was.
"You're right about me on one thing though. How old am I?"
Steve raised an eyebrow. "I... don't understand."
"How old do you think I am, then?"
He looked at him up and down, taking in his appearance. His back was still turned to him, almost in hiding and protectionism. "Maybe... I'd guess I'd say you were 22 or 23? We're almost the same age, then."
"Yeah, I'm actually 19."
Steve did a double take at this, letting his shield fall to the dirt in the middle of its polishing. "What?"
"And that's not even the secret, you see– wait, Captain! Captain! Where're you going?" James followed him out of the tent, the cool dusk air hitting both of them. "Okay, wait a minute! Let's calm down, I can explain! You see, I was sent here by oh god, you're going to see Agent Carter aren't you? Wait, please don't!"
It was too late as Steve walked into the commander's tent. Colonel Phillips was nowhere to be seen, but Peggy was hunched over a desk, overlooking a map. She raised an eyebrow as she caught in the sight of Captain America's second in command trying to pull on his arm like a child would their parent. "Is something the matter?"
"How old is he?" Steve said, pointing with his free arm to James.
Peggy's forehead wrinkled. "Um, about your age, I think? He seems younger."
"You don't know, then?" Steve asked, pulling his arm free. "Or are you acting innocent?"
"Know what, Steve?" Peggy asked. "James, what is this?"
Steve turned back to James. "Tell her."
James nervously ran a hand over the nape of his neck, scratching it. With the other, he used a finger to scratch his cheek. "I lied," he finally said. "I wasn't 19 when I first came aboard the project, I was 16. Now I'm 19, I've been lying about my age for three years."
"What?" Peggy exclaimed. "Do you know the consequences for this sort of action? You could wind up being persecuted!"
"What the hell made you want to lie about your age?" Steve asked.
James scoffed. "Please, you're no saint either, Mr. I'll-lie-about-where-I'm-from-on my-recruitment-form-even-though-I-know-it's-illegal. Besides, this was the only way I can help the fabled Captain America! I needed to get close enough to help him for the next few years, and the lab was the only way I can do that!"
"Wait, but Captain America hadn't even existed until after the project succeeded," Peggy noted. "How could you have known about that back then?"
James was about to answer when he paused. He looked around, as if searching for eavesdroppers. He pulled the tent flap open to see if anyone was coming, but no one was. "I was only supposed to tell the Captain about this, but since he decided to blab, I'll have to tell you both now. And this cannot leave this tent else disaster strikes worse than the war has!"
"I'm not entitled to anything," Peggy said. "Tell me how you knew of the Project and Captain America before I write you up for insubordination, and I may just do so anyway!"
"I'm from the future!" he finally said, then quickly covered his mouth at the high volume he used it for. When no one said anything, he released his mouth and continued. "I was born in 1946, but I was raised in the mid-21st century, a hundred years from now. By that time, an other-worldly tyrant had destroyed most of the planet, and me and my friends were safe with some people we knew growing up."
"That is the single most load of bull I've ever heard my entire life," Peggy said.
"Oh yeah? Tell me what this is then." He reached into his pocket and pulled out the rectangular object from earlier. He threw it to Peggy, who effortlessly caught it with one hand. "Go on. Tell me."
Steve frowned as he looked at it himself. The blue side had the words Public Call Box in small print, and it looked like a phone booth Steve saw once while in London a few years back. "What is it?"
James took it back. "It's a phone. Or at least, it's what phones will look like in about 55 years. See?" Showing the reflective side to them, he pressed a button on the bottom and the side lit up, showing a picture of Captain America's signature shield. "That's the background for my phone. My iPhone, to be exact. And look, I can take pictures." He pulled the screen away from them and fiddled with it, using his thumbs to tap at the screen before he held it up. "Say cheese." There was an audible click and he turned it back around, showing the baffled faces of Steve and Peggy to themselves. "See?"
"That doesn't prove anything," Peggy said, taking the phone again. "Wait, does this work by detecting fingerprints?"
"Yeah, it's a touch screen. A lot of stuff by that time use touch screens. Here, give me that back, it's still mine. I can get phone calls, too, but since I'm here in 1945, it's sort of impossible to contact anyone right now, so I just hang on for the best."
"Say this is true," Steve said. "Say we believe you. If you're from the future, why are you here?"
"My mom knew you," James said, pointing at him. "Before I was born. You were a good friend of hers. That's why I was sent to the future when I was three, because you knew each other. Thirteen years later, a group of us had to go back in time to prevent the end of the world."
"End of the world?"
"Yes. I don't know who or even what, but mankind by the mid-21st century is almost obliterated. There was a group of people, special people, that could have stopped him, but... they died." He paused, placing his left hand over his right shoulder, tucking his chin in it. "My dad was one of them. And so were you, Captain." He looked at his phone again, showing them what was on the screen.
Steve took it, seeing a photo. It was black and white, but he can still see himself. He saw other people, men and woman. He saw a man with a large hammer in his hands, a man with a bow an arrow. There was even a man who's face was turned away, but his left arm was clearly visible; it was made of metal with a star branded on it.
"They were known as the Avengers," James continued. "You and my dad were one of the first to fall. After that, the other Avengers were laid to waist." He took the phone back, fingering it in his hands. "You and my dad are in this time. I decided join the army with you because I thought it'd be easier. I mean, the war ends next month, and after that–"
"Next month?" Peggy said. "You're absolutely sure about that?"
James nodded. "Yep. September second, 1945. Almost six years and one day after it began. I think it was six years, was it six years?"
As the plane crashed into the frozen tundra, so many memories past through his head. They were mostly of his childhood with Bucky, and then it grew to going to school, to attempting to join the army, to becoming the super soldier that was Captain America, to reuniting with Bucky, to meeting Peggy and James, to losing Bucky all over again permanently.
One memory in particular stood out, and for what reason he didn't know. It was just before Steve's plan to just walk right up the front door of Schmidt's base. As Steve went over the plan with the Howling Commandos, he saw that James was distracted. He waited until the end of the meeting before confronting him.
"You seemed distracted. Are you okay?"
James scoffed. "I should be asking you that question. I mean, you lost your brother, both in arms in and friendship."
"Yeah, but you look distraught." When James looked away, Steve frowned. "Does this have something to do with today's mission? Does it go awry?"
He didn't answer at first. "The Red Skull dies today," he finally said. "At least, that's what I think. But no, this is more of a personal thing." Looking over his shoulder, Steve saw James fingering his phone in his hand. "My dad disappears today," he finally admitted. "People think he died, or, that's what the evidence says. My mom finds out she's pregnant tonight. My dad never knew, and when he did, he adopted my sister. Then he died, and my sister was brought to the time the rest of us grew up in."
Steve nodded, then frowned. "Do you I know your father, as well?"
He didn't answer.
Another memory passing through him was the final confrontation between himself and Schmidt. He didn't know how, but James had followed him aboard the plane. He certainty wasn't in the car when Peggy kissed him, so he assumed he got on board before they arrived. That explained why he wasn't there when the Commandos burst through the window.
Then, when Johann exploded by touching the Tesseract, he contacted Peggy. He told him how he had to put the damn plane in the water, never once mentioning that James was with him. He talked about promising not to be late for a dance he knew he would never arrive at. Before he can finish, however, James used his knife to cut the communications off.
"Captain, there's something I have to tell you!" he shouted, holding on to the pilot's chair for dear life as the freezing hellhole neared them.
"James, what the hell!" Steve reprimanded. "I wasn't done!"
"I-I'm sorry, but this can't wait! I know about you and Peggy, you guys have been seeing each other in secret since May!"
The water was getting closer. Shocked, Steve looked up at him. "What? H-how do you know that?"
James hesitated before he spoke. "My parents met in the army," he said. "My Mom's from England, my Dad's from Brooklyn. During a recent attack, my Dad lost the best friend he's ever known, falling off a train into a frozen chasm." As he spoke, he pulled out his phone. "Remember what I said this morning? My Dad went missing and everyone though he died?"
Steve felt his blood curdle. He looked up at James and saw that he was being completely serious. "No..." He shook his head, feeling a sudden urge of denial overwhelming him. "N-no, you're lying."
James showed him a picture on the phone. Keeping a sturdy hand on the wheel, he took the phone in the other. It showed a picture of Peggy, no doubt Peggy, kissing a baby's cheek. The baby had dark hair and wore a bib with the words Steven-James Carter: the Captain's prodigy.
Then everything went black.
Steve looked up as James slept on. Even though he himself had woken up only three days prior, he was still worried about... about his son. It was the one thing he wasn't confused about in this new life he found himself in. It was mostly the uncertainness and fear revolving around it. The last memory he had before waking up was the suddenly enlightening moment when James told the truth of his parentage. God, Peggy was pregnant. She had to raise James alone for three years before he was taken to the future. If she were still alive, if she even is now, she must hate him.
Steven-James Carter. It had a nice ring to it. He suddenly realized that the three years when he and Peggy had to almost be parents to James during the war, whenever he would do something reckless or go against orders, it was like reprimanding a child. He was being a father to his son without even realizing it.
He momentarily thought of Sarah. God, her name made so much sense now. If Sarah were only a year younger than Steven-James, then where was she now? Was she born yet? Was she in an orphanage? Was she a young woman when was taken in? He had no idea.
The doctor came in the room, notifying that while he did various checkups on Steven-James, Steve had to leave. The paternal side of him wanted to say hell no, but the reasonable side of him told him that leaving was inevitable, so he left with little protest. The doctor promised to notify him if any signs were to show, and Steve left to find Director Fury.
Fury, a few hours earlier, had sent an agent to tell Captain America to meet him at his earliest convenience. Seeing that looking after his son in a hospital bed was not at all convenient, Steve went straight to the elevator at the end of the hallway after leaving his son with the doctor. He pressed the button for the intended floor, all the way up, swaying a little at how smooth and fast the elevator went up the shaft. Behind him, the wall was glass, showing a spectacular view of New York. It was nighttime, and the electric signs were hurting his eyes; he was never going to get used to them.
The doors opened and a woman walked in. She wore a blue agent's suit with her hair styled in a bun. She had a stack of papers in her arm and an earpiece in her left ear. Bluetooth it was called, he remembered.
"Captain Rogers," the woman said conversationally. "I'm Agent Maria Hill. It's a pleasure to meet you."
"Likewise," Steve said. "Does the Director still need to see me?"
"He does, yes," Agent Hill nodded. "He sent an agent this morning, though. Are you know getting the message?"
He shook his head. "No no, it's just... I'm a bit distracted, that's all. They keep telling me to go take a walk, but I'm not leaving this building until my friend is okay." He never revealed to anyone the truth about who Steven-James was to anyone. It didn't matter if they were allies, he was not going to put his son in possible danger. They might take him in for questioning or experiments, and he was not going to allow that.
"It's understandable. He's comatose and you're not," the Agent continued. "He's not aided with the super serum, but he's still pulling through. Here we go." The doors opened once more and as more people entered, Agent Hill and Steve exited. "Director Fury's office is down this hallway. I'm on my way there myself. Follow me."
Steve was guided to a door at the end of the hallway. Inside, he saw the Director talking to a woman in a black, skintight outfit. She had long red hair and a holster with a gun. The room itself was large with a glass desk and leather chairs. Behind the desk was no chair, and the farthest wall was glass as well, and just like in the elevator, one can see down into the city.
"And Agent Barton is alright?" Fury seemed to be saying.
"Yes, sir," the red-headed woman agreed. "Coulson saw Thor leave New Mexico, and that woman, Jane, I think, is searching for him."
Fury nodded and looked up, seeing Agent Hill and Steve walk in. "Contact Dr. Selvig, I'll head over and talk to him once I'm done here."
"Right away." The woman stood up from sitting on the armrest of the chair. She nodded in both their direction, her glance a second longer on Steve before she left.
"If finished the reports on the latest incident with Stark," Maria said as she set the papers on the desk. "That man has more responsibilities than the president and acts like a humble house cat."
"Thank you, Agent Hill." He looked up at Steve as she walked away. Once she was gone, he said, "Your friend is very persistent. Any man other than you would have died immediately."
Steve shrugged, trying to act nonchalant. "He's always been like that," he said conventionally. "Sometimes he'd go against orders or go off alone during missions. I still don't understand how he got away with it all." This was true. More than once he threatened Steven-James with insubordination if he refused to obey orders, and he would fall back in line for a few weeks, only to go on a completely different path again. And for some reason, he let him stay. Thinking back, maybe it was the paternal side of him that he never knew existed that he felt with Steven-James. Was that how Bucky felt about himself back when they were growing up?
"We took a blood test yesterday," Fury said. "You never leave his side, not even to eat. We were surprised to find that you and him share DNA. You wanna tell me if you two are related, and how?"
Damn, he didn't think they could do something like that in this time. Well, at least they hadn't made the big connection yet.
"He's my younger brother," he lied, surprised at himself how easily that came out of his mouth. Years of faking his application helped in that aspect, he supposed. "Half-brother to be exact. We share the same mother, and after she died, I had to take care of him."
Fury said nothing for a moment. Steve thought he bought the story until he picked up a stapled set of papers he hadn't notice before off the desk. "Files and reports say you never had a brother," Fury commented in a false tone of curiosity. "There's everything from your favorite song to your affection for Agent Carter, but nothing on a living family member."
"W-wait a minute, affection?" Steve frowned. How could they know about that?
"Don't play a fool's ass with me," Fury put bluntly. "Agent Carter and Howard Stark were some of the greatest minds in creating SHIELD, and reports came in when you went up and got her pregnant. Her kid went missing when he was three years old, and everyone blamed you for it, only because you weren't there to protect him."
"She had a kid?" Even though Steve already knew the truth, it was something else entirely to hear it be confirmed from an outside source. "My kid?"
Fury flipped the page before he threw it to the other end of the desk. "Look for yourself."
Taking the paper, Steve found himself looking at a birth certificate. Steven-James Carter it said. Born May 17, 1946 on a Friday afternoon, the same birthday as James back in 1944, the only time he wanted to celebrate it. He was turning 18 then, disguising it at 21. Attached was a photo of Peggy in a hospital bed carrying a little infant in her arms. Her head was turned away from the camera, but the smile made it obvious that she didn't mind. The infant was his son, the child he never got to see grow up. Now, he was downstairs, in a coma and near the point of dying all so his father, him, could live. If he could, he would give his own life to save Steven-James's. Although, he figured, that is what happened in the apocalyptic future he spoke of a few days back. Well, for them it was a few days.
Before he knew it, he was wiping a tear from his eye. He hadn't even realized he was crying.
"I'm sorry about that," Fury said. "Believing me, we've tried looking for him. If he's still alive, he's out there, a man in his fifties. He may have a family of his own, or he's all alone. I promise, Captain Rogers, we will find your son." He paused. "I'll expect some sort of answer sooner or later regarding your friend. Keep the papers. We have copies."
Steve nodded, not trusting himself to speak. As he left the room, he heard Fury mutter to himself, "Damn, the man is a magnet for people named James." He smiled in spite of himself, making sure his eyes were dry before he showed his face to the public. He wasn't really one to take pity, especially from strangers.
Instead of heading back down to Steven-James's room, he continued past the elevator and out a door. There he entered the roof of the building, where a small patio-like area was growing. There wasn't anyone up here, and if there was, it was mostly pairs of people talking or hanging around with each other. Steve took a seat on a bench, letting the cool spring breeze of New York hit his face. It was amazing; he actually wasn't too far off from the apartment where he and Bucky grew up. If the building were still there or the streets were the same, he might go and check out the old neighborhood, maybe search for an apartment to move into, someplace quiet while he got used to the 21st century. In other circumstances, he would. But now, he had a child to look after. Granted, said child was 19 years old, but he was still his, and nothing was going to change that.
"Excuse me."
He was so distracted in his thoughts that he didn't notice that a young girl had walked up next to him. The girl was young, maybe 18, and she wore a black shirt under a gray long-sleeved sweater. She had blue jeans and combat boots; or at least, he assumed that's what they were. Her black hair was in a ponytail, but the most oddest thing about her were her hands. One was flesh, but the other looked like it was entirely metal.
"Are you Steve Rogers?" the girl asked.
"Yes. Are you an Agent? You seem awfully young."
The girl shook her head. "No. I'm Steven-James's girlfriend."
At this, Steve stood up from his seat. "What?"
"He told out about us, right?" the girl said, motioning with her hands. "Didn't he tell you that the kids of the Avengers were sent back in time to stop the apocalyptic future from happening?"
He had almost forgotten how to speak and said, "Un, y-yeah, I think he might have had mentioned something like that once."
The girl sighed. "Damn you, Quincy." She shook her head. "Never mind that. I'm one of them, too. My name is Taylor, but the public knows me as Frostbite, and my father is the Winter Soldier. It's wonderful to officially meet you, Mr. Rogers!" She offered her hand, but Steve didn't take it. "Mr. Rogers?"
"S-sorry! It's just... I didn't expect to see you here. Frostbite?"
Taylor nodded. "Mm-hm. I'm on the news sometimes. You'll hear of me every now and then, going against terrorist attacks and supporting LGBT equality parades. Oh, right, you don't know what that is. Well, just tell Steven-James when he wakes up that I love him and that I can't wait until I see him again." She reaches into her pocket and pulled out a rectangular object. It took Steve a minute to recognize it as an iPhone like Steven-Janes had, though a different color. "Damn, I need to go. I'll see you later!"
"You don't need to look at me like that; not like I'm going anywhere."
Steve chuckled, fingering the phone in his hands. No one had really questioned him about it, and he was thinking no one seemed to know about it. He had it in his pocket when he woke up, considering it strange since he remembered holding it in his hand when they crashed. Perhaps they were testing him on this situation. But for now, that didn't matter.
Steven-James had his eyes closed, but he showed his teeth in a small smile. His black hair was unruly and stuck to his forehead in curls. The IV tubes poking his arm monitored his stats, his heartbeat beating steadily. His heat signature was higher than it was the day before.
"I'm your father," Steve said. "I need to keep a closer eye on you than a hawk does to her hatchlings."
His smile fell. His heartbeat suddenly began to pick up slightly. "You remember that?"
Steve adjusted his chair so that it was parked right next to the bed. He set his hand on Steven-James's, but he retracted his hand, setting it on his stomach. Steve didn't try to push it. It seems that they were both having a tough time adjusting to this sudden situation: Steve suddenly had a son, and Steven-James was reuniting with his father.
"I'm sorry you've lived such a tough life," Steve said. "Peggy had to give you up when you were three years old. I wasn't there to see you grow up. I missed so much... You're first step, your first smile, your first birthday, your first word."
Steven-James's mouth tilted upward. "My first word was 'Bucky,' and I vaguely remembered Mom talking about the both of you a lot." The smile faded. "Are you mad at me?"
"For what?" Steve asked. "You did the right thing, not telling me right after we met. I would have though you insane. Thinking back, I remember all those times you'd say something like, 'who are you, my dad?' I never realized how much it hurt you when I told you I was your superior and not your father."
"'Snot your fault." Steven-Janes exhaled through his nose, his heartbeat slowing down. "You didn't know. It's good to see, though, Captain."
Steve thought for a moment before he said, "You know... you can call me Dad... If you want."
Seven-James nodded. "Mm. Night... Dad." He tilted his head, snoring lightly as he fell back asleep. Throughout the entire exchange, he never opened his eyes.
Steve raised his hand to his forehead to remove the hair from it, letting it out of probably an uncomfortable tickle. Unable to help himself, he bent over and kissed his forehead, smiling. "Goodnight, son." Yawning, he exited the room and found Agent Hill standing outside.
"We have a room for you if you want it," she said. "For you and your brother."
"I appreciate it," Steve said. "Is he going to be able to move up and about soon?"
"He just needs a good night's rest and he'll be just fine," the Agent promised. "It's funny seeing a man like Captain America seem so domestic. Something pretty normal around here."
"How often are things not normal?" Steve asked.
An explosion at an above floor interrupted Agent Hill from answering the question. It wasn't enough to hurt them, but the floor still shook and crashes were heard from above.
"Fairly," the Agent answered. "You think you can help us out if need be? I can have your shield."
"You helped my brother recover, I'll do what I can."
"Mm-ha ha! Oh, the energy is strong here! One of the Future Ones are here!"
Steve stopped in his tracks as he saw what the intruder was. It was a man on fire. He wore a black and red suit, similar to what Johann Schmidt wore. His head was literally a fireball, giving a vague shape of eyes and a mouth. Upon seeing Steve carrying his iconic shield, what can be assumed as the mouth turned into a wicked grin.
"If it isn't the Avenger himself, the legendary Captain America." He spoke in a raspy and deep voice. It reminded Steve of the a radio with terrible static. "I can assume you know where the Future Ones are."
Steve's narrowed eyes weren't a play, but he can guess what he was speaking of. Or rather, who. "The Future Ones... What are you talking about? And who are you?"
Before the human fireball can answer, Fury's voice shouted into the room. "Sir, I'm gonna have to ask you to leave the premises peacefully. If not, I will not hesitate to fire that burning ass of yours out of the building."
It surprised Steve how calm he spoke despite the situation. It only showed how much he was used to being the Director of such an organization as SHIELD is.
"I am known as Hellfire to my adversaries," the fireball said. "And, it seems, I have gained them in this time period as well."
This time period? Steve thought.
"Bring me the child of Steven Rogers or pay the consequences!" The fire blew like a volcano top, erupting and setting the hallway on a bigger fire. His hands were not flesh, rather rock, and they glowed red. A moment later, a burst of fire shot at Steve. At the last minute, Steve lifted his shield and bounced the fireball back.
Hellfire turned his stone hands into two swords, attacking the agents that went up to him.
"Everyone back off!" a voice shouted. A woman suddenly appeared, the same redhead who was talking to Fury earlier in the night, pulling the gun out of her holster. "Listen up, I'm only going to say this once: ever heard of the Ice Bucket Challenge? Well, you either leave the place and we'll hunt you down later, or you get to participate. Game on."
Hellfire laughed. "Natasha Romanoff, the Black Widow. Your Future One must be nearby as well..."
"Think again!" Coming literally from nowhere, Steve saw a blue figure come down from a blazing fire melting a glass pane. What he saw dumbfounded him. Someone dressed similarly to his Captain America outfit stood with a shield, but the shield was lit up. He wore a blue jacket and pants with red boots. A white star was printed on the back of the blue jacket, and his blue mask similar to Captain America's was dotted with tiny white stars. "Hellfire. I should've known you would follow us here."
"Hm. The Prince of America. A fallen kingdom that your father, its captain, failed to protect."
Steve looked back at the Prince. Was this...?
"Leave," the Prince said. "Your mistake was breaking into a SHIELD base. Even you're not that stupid."
Hellfire walked forward. He towered over the Prince by at most a foot, looking down at him as he leaned his back. "Three down. Nine to go." Turning around on his feet, he jumped out a hole that he blasted in from.
The Prince made his way to the hole, looking as Hellfire disappeared in a burst of fire. "Damn... I hope the others are okay."
"Something you want to tell me?" Steve asked as he paced around the hotel.
After staying a single night in the room offered by SHIELD, he eventually decided to go off with Steven-James to accustom to the times. Using the old bank account he had from the forties, which had grown exceptionally the past decades, he purchased a hotel room near the SHIELD building, in case anything new were to happen.
"Not really," Steven-James said as he flipped through the page of his book. "Man, these books are amazing. Ms. Rowling is a magnificent author. These books didn't exist in my time."
"You make it sound like you're the one who's unfamiliar with the times."
"I am, actually." Steve-James folded the corner of the page, closing the book. He sat up on his bed, pulling a pillow onto his lap. "I wasn't raised in the 10s, I was raised in the 50s. The only thing we had to entertain ourselves in that time was our training, some old movies that my uncle saved, and the stories about the Avengers."
"Training?" At this, Steve sat on his own bed, his previous thought derailed for the moment. "What sort of training?"
He shrugged. "Eh, the basics. Hand to hand combat, strength tests. Some of us were able to use technologies to our advantage. Well, all of us, actually."
At this point, Steve's train of thought pulled back into the station. "And the Prince of America... What sort of technology does he use?"
"Dad, come on!" Steven-James whined. When earning the raised eyebrow, he sighed. "Fine." Standing up, he pulled the left sleeve of his shirt up to reveal a metal band around his forearm.
"How long have you had that?" Steve asked.
"I've always had, ever since I was 14. It adjusts according to my size as I grew older and taller." Pressing some kind of button on the band, Steve was surprised to see the same Prince of America suit spread over his entire body. The band then transferred to his wrist and when he pressed another button, the shield showed up again. It was lit up, and he could even see through it. "It's holographic," Steven-James explained. "It's just an image, but it's solid at the same time. See?" Pulling the mask off his head, he tapped the shield. Sure enough, there was a faint echo as if it were hallow. He pressed the button again, then the suit and shield disappeared.
"You could've gotten hurt," Steve argued, standing. "Who was he, anyway? He was asking about the 'Future Ones.'"
"That's us. We came from the future, but we were followed. That tyrant sent his followers after us to... to kill us. Hellfire is one of them."
"You could've gotten hurt," he said again. "Damn it, James, you were in a hospital bed! How did you even get out so well?"
"I have your genes, remember? The serum continued to my body. My metabolism isn't four times stronger than an ordinary person's, but it's still there."
Steve looked over him again. He grew up too fast, he thought to himself.
"Why are you looking at me like that?"
Instead of answering, Steve stood from his bed and wrapped his arms around his son. He felt Steven-James stiffen before doing the same a moment later. "I'm sorry you've gone through so much," he said. "You should have lived a normal life. You deserve it so."
"Eh, normal's overrated. My girlfriend is the daughter of an ex-assassin that Hydra was mind-controlling."
At this, Steve pulled back. "That reminds me! I actually met Taylor the other day!"
"What, really? When?"
Steve set the newspaper down on the table. Steven-James looked up from his cereal. "You're really making a name for yourself when I'm not looking, are you?"
A week later, the finally found an apartment. They went with their usual ruse, parading as brothers. In the public, Steven-James continually referred to his father as "Captain," and Steve referred to his son simply as "James." During this time, while Steve was waiting for some kind update about Peggy from SHIELD, they would just get to know watch other, try to spend time as father and son. It was very difficult given they were only a few years apart, but neither could back down from a challenge.
Steven-James only grinned as he took the paper, holding it up. "'New American-themed hero rises!'" he read. "'Referred to as "The Prince of America," it is believed that this mysterious man is taking up the plate of revived super soldier Steve Rogers, who was found incarcerated in ice a week prior. NYPD state that while the unknown subject is helping capturing terrorists and killers around the city, they remain wary of what his intentions may be. Some have tried to get close to the turnabout patriot, but none have succeeded.' Son of a bitch, it goes on how I'm a secret killer in disguise!"
"Watch your language," Steve warned.
"Sorry, Dad." He continued to read through the newspaper quietly until something caught his eye. "Oh my god. Dad, come look at this!"
Steve walked over to him. He looked at the paper and skimmed the pages, confused as to where he was supposed to be looking at. "What?"
"Here! Right here!"
Taking the paper, he squinted at the small box. It was a missing persons report. It showed a photo of a young girl. Her name?
Eighteen year old Sarah Rogers has gone missing this past week from Brooklyn. She was last seen by a group of friends leaving a cinema theater, but when her roommate showed up to their apartment, she was not there. Her friends say that she had been planning to leave in search of her family, but all of her belongings remain. Police are in high alert. If anyone sees this young girl or has any information regarding her, please report to the New York State Police Department in Queens. More details to follow as the investigation continues.
Holy crap, that is long!
Hey there, this is CoronaCrown2, taking the spot of my boyfriend before his accident. I'm new to writing fan fiction, but I've always liked the fact that the Avengers had kids, like in that animated movie that came out a few years back, The Next Avengers? Some of those kids are based on these. Also, same with the kids in the Young Avengers comics. I haven't read a single one of those, so please do not hate on me if I get something wrong! If anything, I only took their name rather than their personalities m!
I will be writing a (long, apparently) one-shot for each child. I'm debating whether or not I want to reveal them for you right away in he next Author's Note, so I'll just leave it up to you to decide on that.
Also, not all of the Avengers have a kid. Falcon and War Machine are such examples. I wanted to keep the children limited and to be cornered by certain Avengers, so that's it. Also, the apocalyptic future that's mentioned is supposed to be Thanos's attack that may happen in The Avengers: Infinity War. Ergo, this storyline takes place after everything in the Marvel Cinematic Universe has occurred from Iron Man in 2008 to Infinity Wars Part 2 in 2020 (I think).
Also, Hellfire is an original villain I made up. Any villain or character in resemblance to Hellfire is a coincidence, I assure you.
Lastly, this fanfic will select various children of the Avengers, as well as telling various key points of their parent(s)'s respective movie(s). Here, Steven-James Cart, Taylor Barnes, and Sarah Rogers were introduced. Any theories or comments?
CoronaCrown2 (I won't officially put the "2" in my profile name, I'll only use it in Author's Notes)
