"I'm not going to therapy Blake,"

"You've got no choice O'Connor," Blake fought back in a tone that mimicked his friend's.

Hayley O'Connor hit against the bag in front of her with all force she had in her body. With that final hit, she turned from the bag and wiped the back of her hand over her sweaty forehead. Her brown hair was pulled back into a high pony tail but a few strands fell out and were matted onto her skin, itching her just above her eyebrow and she picked up a bottle of water.

The subject of therapy had been a touchy one for about a month now, but her answer was the same every time it was suggested. However if she wanted to get back in the field, she really didn't have a choice.

"Talking won't help me," Hayley huffed, throwing the bottle of water onto her bag in the corner.

"Yeah? And what will?" Blake asked, folding his arms. "Spending all your time training by yourself? Going home at night and drinking your weight in liquor so you can sleep?"

Hayley gritted her teeth, glaring at the man briefly before walking back over to the punching bag. Before she threw her first swing though, Murray stepped out in front of her.

"Move," she snapped.

"Stop doing this," he shook his head. "I let you do whatever you wanted at first, you deserved that. But I can let you be like this anymore,"

"I never asked you to be my babysitter," she stepped away, beginning to unravel the wraps around her wrists.

Blake followed behind her, intent on having his voice heard.

"We all know I'm not Nick," he spoke gently. "I'm not your brother and I'm not trying to be, but I promised him I'd look out for you and if he was here-"

"Well he's not, he's dead," Hayley looked up at the man, her eyes full of anger. "And I'm stuck here listening to you when he should be,"

"You think you're stuck here? You act like living is a burden. You got a life Hayley, he didn't!"

"I know that!" Hayley pushed against him, her anger reaching boiling point. "I watched him get shot dead right in front of me, I'm very aware of the fact I got a life and he didn't!''

Blake sighed and put his hands on his hips. He didn't know how to get through to her anymore. When Nick died, he might as well have taken Hayley with him because this person in front of Blake right now, the one ignoring the fact that she needed help, it wasn't the person he knew.

Hayley didn't blame herself for the bullet that hit her brother on the field, but she did blame herself for the fact it hit him and not her. It didn't make sense that she got to walk away from that fight and live her life when he lost his. Nick should have been here, not her.

''You can't keep doing this to yourself,''

Hayley turned her head to Blake who was standing just beside the bag now, his voice softer and less forceful. She had heard his pleas for weeks now for her to attend therapy sessions, to at least join a support group that could help her deal with her grief, but she refused to admit she had any issues at all.

''I just need to get back on the field,'' Hayley shook her head. ''Blake, all you have to do is sign that form saying I'm fit for duty-''

''But you're not fit for duty. Do you honestly think I'd let you be sent back out there when you're like this? SHIELD is willing to let you go back on field duties with a supervisor but you have to agree to therapy, that's the only way,''

''I don't need a supervisor and I don't need therapy! I need to get back into the field,''

''Well there's only one way you're gonna do that,'' Blake folded his arms.

Nothing more had been said between the two of them as they walked away from the old, abandonded gym and towards the diner across the street. Since she hadn't argued against him since his last point, Blake was hoping that this would be the day he finally convinced her to get the help she needed. He wasn't doing it so she could get back on the field, to be honest he didn't even want her to go back because he knew it was something she was never going to be ready to face again, but it was all one step at a time.
When they found their usual booth and sat down, Hayley looked up at the television which was reporting breaking news.

''...the wreckage is believed to be the remains of an aircraft used during World War II but all is yet to be recovered due to the large glaciers and thick layers of ice it was found beneath...''

''SHIELD will be all over that,''

Hayley's attention turned from the screen to Blake.

''Why?''

''That's Captain America's plane. Well, not his exactly. But he drove that thing into the ice-''

''I know the story,'' Hayley cut him off. ''But what's to say this is the plane?''

''The Valkyrie,'' Blake pointed to the screen where the name of the plane was being broadcast. ''That's Cap's plane alright,''


Two months later

Steve looked out the window of the room SHIELD set him up in, wondering if he was ever going to wake up from this nightmare. It had been two months since he woke up and found out he was now living in 2012 instead of 1945. The serum that Dr. Erskine developed had enabled him to survive almost seventy years of being on ice, perfectly preserved. But it still didn't make sense to him.

1945 was yesterday to him, but to the rest of the world it was 67 years ago. Looking around his room, there was barely anything that he recognized from that time. Technology was beyond confusing and the way that SHIELD operated made him question if he was going to even survive in these times.

They had offered to assign someone to help Steve transition into the new world, but he had refused. He could do this on his own, he just wished he didn't have to. There were so many people he would rather have around him, but they were all long gone. Peggy Carter was 93 years old and bed ridden in a nursing home suffering dementia, Bucky Barnes had died during the war, Steve had no other family members left and he knew no one in this new life he had to live.

''Captain Rogers?''

Steve turned his head to the door of his room which was now cracked open, a man standing in the small gap. Glancing at the time, he immediately knew what the man was here for.

''I'm here to escort you to your appointment,''

Steve didn't like the idea of sharing his feelings and inner thoughts with a man sitting in his office, taking notes and studying his movements. No one did that back in the 40's, no one had the time, there was a war to fight.

''I've been before, I don't think I need an escort,'' Steve told the man as nicely as he could.

Everyone had been very accommodating towards Steve since he woke up and as much as he appreciated it, it was becoming more and more like they were trying to mind him as if he was a child.

''Dr. Rafferty's office has been moved, I thought you might want to be shown where for your future visits,''

Steve almost felt rude now.

''Oh, well thank you,''

''It's no problem, I'm headed that way. I'm Agent Elliot Blake,'' the man extended his hand.

Steve shook his hand politely, appreciating the fact that the man was greeted him just like anyone else. Living in a SHIELD facility made Steve feel like an alien most of the time. None of the agents wanted to get too close out of fear he was made of glass. They underestimated his ability to adapt.

''Nice to meet you Agent,''

Steve pulled on his jacket and closed his door, following the man down the hall until they reached a staircase. As much as he didn't want to admit to needing someone to show him where to go, he was glad that Agent Blake had taken the time to escort him. The halls of the SHIELD facility were long and almost never-ending, he was sure he would have missed every turn he had to take.

A majority of agents who were on duty or constantly on missions resided in the facility, it was almost like a huge building full of smaller apartments and research labs. SHIELD had many facilities just like this one all around the globe, but since Steve had woken up in New York's SHIELD facility, that's where he had stayed.

''It's a big place,'' Blake chuckled, noticing Steve looking around when they made it to another staircase. ''I've been lost many times around here,''

''Do you live in the building?'' Steve asked, making note of everything he passed so he could find it on his own next time.

''No, I have a friend who does though so I visit a lot. I go on a lot of assignments that require some in depth debriefing too so I'm here a lot more than I like to be,'' Blake told him. ''I guess there's worse places in this city to spend my time,''

''You'd have a lot more privacy anywhere else,'' Steve commented, earning another chuckle from the agent.

''I agree with you there Captain. Not much gets past SHIELD around here,''

They kept walking until they came to a door at the end of the hall and Blake turned and nodded towards it. The office was very secluded compared to everything else in the building and Steve hoped it hadn't been moved on his account.

When speaking with Director Fury, Steve had voiced his opinions on going to see a psychologist. He didn't like the idea and he hadn't enjoyed the past few appointments he had with the doctor. Bringing up memories that hurt him to remember, going over the fact that everyone he loved was now in his past whether he liked it or not. It wasn't enjoyable at all.

There were muffled voices heard inside the room as if there was an argument going on and Steve noticed Blake pinching the bridge of his nose in frustration before the door opened. A woman stepped out in a plain black uniform, no weapons or anything attached, and she looked between the two men standing outside, obviously not expecting to be met with company. Her brown hair was down and sat just above her shoulders, but it did nothing to distract either of the men from the dark circles beneath her eyes.

''How was your session?'' Blake asked, pretending no one else was around.

Steve instantly knew they was familiar with one another when the woman shrugged her shoulders, folding her arms before Dr. Rafferty walked out behind her.

''Perhaps next time Private O'Connor will stay for the full duration of her session,'' Dr. Rafferty suggested with a sigh, looking over to Blake since the woman clearly wasn't interested. ''To get results, I need dedication and at least some effort,''

Blake nodded in agreement and looked disappointedly at the woman, but she remained silent as she began walking down the hall. Steve watched as she walked past him without a hint of recognition, noticing how her hands were in fists as she folded her arms.

''Thanks doctor,'' Blake took a few steps following her, turning to Steve before he went any further. ''Oh if there's anything you need Captain, just ask for me and I'll take care of it,''

''I appreciate it,'' Steve nodded in return.

When he was finally the last one left in the hall, Steve looked up at Dr. Rafferty and dreaded the next hour he had to spend with him.

''Hello again Mr. Rogers, come right in,''

At least now he knew he wasn't the only one who didn't enjoy these meetings.


''Why do you have to do that?''

Hayley kept walking, picking up her pace as Blake's voice followed behind her.

''Do what? I'm going to those stupid therapy sessions, what else do you want?''

''I want you to take them seriously!'' he argued. ''There's no point showing up if you're not wanting to get something out of it,''

''I do want something out of it,''

''Getting back into the field is not what I'm talking about. You need to take care of yourself before you go into fieldwork and that means actually doing these sessions properly,''

After another flight of stairs and a few turns, they finally reached Hayley's room. She quickly unlocked the door and walked inside, taking a seat on her couch and watching as Blake came through the door moments later. It was obvious he wasn't impressed with her behavior. They had been through a lot these past two months since Hayley had agreed to go to therapy, but she did so on her own terms which were starting to bother Blake.

''SHIELD wants me to go to therapy, so I go. SHIELD wants me to stay in this building to monitor me and assess me, so I stay. What else do I have to do?'' she asked him, her temper snapping.

''None of that matters when you're not taking it seriously. You can't just show up to Dr. Rafferty's and expect him to approve you to Coulson straight away. Attendance isn't considered improvement. You have to talk to someone Hayley, you have to...to deal with what happened,''

''I've dealt with it,'' she pushed off the couch, making her way to the small kitchen.

Blake watched her open the cupboards and rummage around, knowing what she was looking for.

''There's no booze in here O'Connor,'' he shook his head. ''Made sure of it,''

''Wasn't looking for any,'' she lied, settling for a glass of water. ''I'm trying to move on Blake and I'm getting nowhere because no one will let me,''

''Because you're not ready. Moving on comes after dealing with things and you haven't dealt with them no matter how much you try and convince yourself you have,''

Hayley gripped the glass in her hand and took a deep breath, calming herself down. Countless times they had had this argument and she was sick of it. No one would tell her whether or not she had come to terms with something. No one told her how to handle herself.

''It's been six months Blake, I'm ready,'' she looked over to him.

Getting back on the field was the only thing keeping her sane these days. She had been obsessing over training and tactics every day, she knew she had to get back out there and do something. Sitting in a SHIELD apartment by herself was driving her insane and she did everything she could to stop herself from dwelling on her thoughts. She needed to get back into the field and she knew she was ready.

Blake, however, saw straight through her. There was no way he was going to help her get back out there when she was like this.

''No, you're not,'' he told her before walking to the door and leaving.

He was barely a few feet away from her apartment when he heard the glass shatter against the wall.


There was a lot of things that Steve had been filled in about since he woke up months ago, but one of the biggest was how much people have changed since the 40's. There were bad people on the streets when Steve was younger, he was victim to many of the thugs, but he was assured that it had become much worse. However as Steve walked down one of the streets in the city one night, he was sure that things hadn't changed that much. There were bad people everywhere in the world, but at least he could defend himself now.

Sleeping had been one of his biggest problems since waking up in the new world and he had given up even trying to sleep recently. After finding out that the gym at the SHIELD facility was a bit too technological and crowded for his liking, Steve had taken the advice of an agent that suggested he visit one of the older gyms in the city since no one regularly used them. Following the brief directions he had been given from the unknown agent, Steve stopped at a gym at the end of a street, just across from a little diner. Figuring this was it, Steve walked around the side and found his way inside.

Hayley hit against the bag in front of her, ignoring the pain in her right wrist that had started minutes ago. If she was going to prove to everyone at SHIELD that she was ready to go back into things, she had to be her best physically. Every day for the past few months she had been training, but since a peaceful sleep was out of the question, her routine would go on. Working out seemed easier than trying to put on a happy face to convince everyone she was okay.

When she took a moment to hold the bag still, pushing the fallen strands of hair out of her face, she heard noises coming from the door at the side of the gym. It was almost midnight which ruled out the chances of it being Blake, but Hayley didn't have enough time to consider the possibilities before another familiar blonde haired man walked into the room.

He looked almost as surprised to see her as she was to see him. Steve recognized the woman from the past two appointments he had with Dr. Rafferty where she was walking out as he arrived, but he had never seen her looking directly at him before.

''I didn't know anyone was here,'' he explained hurriedly. ''Sorry,''

''What are you looking for?'' Hayley asked curiously.

Steve looked back at her and glanced down at the small bag he had brought with him that contained a clean shirt, wraps for his hands and bottles of water.

''I was just looking for somewhere quiet to work out,'' he explained.

Hayley looked over to the clock on the wall, making sure she wasn't imagining the time.

''Insomnia?'' she asked.

''Something like that,'' he shrugged. ''I can go-''

''There's another bag in the corner,'' Hayley pointed. ''It's been gathering dust for months now, someone might as well use it,''

Steve looked over at the bag with a nod before turning back to the woman with an appreciative smile.

''Thank you ma'am,''

When he said that, Hayley remembered that the man was from the 1940's. It was still hard to believe that Captain America was alive, especially since she remembered listening to her brother tell her stories about the super soldier and how he was one day going to be just like him, fighting for his country. Hayley shook the memory from her mind before nodding in return to the man.

''It's Hayley,'' she told him as he began to walk away.

''Steve,''

They both shared a brief glance and another nod before going their separate ways in the gym; Steve to his corner to set up the bag and Hayley to throwing her fists into the one in front of her. In all of the places he had been since waking up, Steve was sure that this old abandoned gym was the most comfortable he had felt. It reminded him of the one in Brooklyn when he was growing up that he and Bucky would sneak into with the other kids and watch the men box.

It surprised Steve that the woman didn't question him anymore. She barely even paid attention to him as he got himself ready. Steve knew she was in SHIELD since seeing her at his appointments and the fact that Agent Blake seemed to know her very closely. She might have been the only person as SHIELD he met yet who didn't feel the need to interrogate him and his every move and it surprised him how much he appreciated it. However Steve could see without even knowing her that she had her own problems to deal with, there was no other reason why she would be attending therapy sessions like he was. But they respected one another's privacy as they continued their work out.

Two people who were being haunted by the past, unable to sleep from the thoughts and memories that plagued them, both fighting against their own self-inflicted emotional torture. Two people from completely different times who were so alike.