Disclaimer: I do not own The Avengers

It was October when they found him in the ice. Phil had been searching endlessly throughout the summer and Fury had already given him an extension to continue into September. He was still surprised that Fury had let him go on the crazy, wild goose chase in the first place. It wasn't like anyone had expected him to find anything; hadn't expected him to find their leader. Phil wasn't even supposed to be there in October and he was pushing his luck, big time. It was by sheer coincidence that the Captain was actually found.

Phil was surprised, elated, relieved. He was so mixed up that he didn't even know what to feel.

"Let's take him home," was all he said with a small, sideways grin before quickly phoning Fury and, shortly after, Clint. He was going to rub it in his face the first chance he got and… get that 20 bucks that Clint now owed him.

It only took about 5 hours to get back to headquarters and start defrosting him. Phil was expecting a corpse- a patriotic, half-decayed, preserved corpse- but his hopes swayed differently. He wasn't expecting the Captain to actually be alive, he may not be breathing or any normal human temperature, but somehow there was brain activity and suddenly all the doctors were freaking out and getting him hooked up to multiple, entangling wires, draping blankets and hot water bags all over him, shoving tubes down his throat and nose.

Apparently, Phil's hopes had won.

"What does it look like Doc?" Phil asked gazing down at the now prone and sleeping captain. He was so unreal, but he was everything that Phil hoped he would be and he hadn't even met the guy. Gee, when he woke up-

"He is lucky to be alive. The serum saved him, but just barely. He has multiple contusions, broken bones, multiple organ failure, and minimal brain activity. I'm not even sure he will wake up," the doctor droned on completely unaware of Phil's decreasing hopes, plummeting until they hit rock bottom.

"But there's still a chance?" Phil looked at him, hoping that he didn't look too hopefully. He was still a SHIELD agent after all.

"A slim one," the doctor said before placing the chart back down on the foot of the bed and walking out.

Phil sighed and ran his hands through his short, trimmed hair. "But there's a chance," he whispered, sitting in the seat he had occupied for the past several hours and continuing his vigil over the Captain, "There's a chance."

Phil tried to see the Captain everyday but hours turned into days, days turned into weeks, and weeks turned into months. Eventually, as expected, life got in the way, missions ran over, paperwork had to be filed, agents had to be attended to, and the Captain had to be placed on the back burner. Phil didn't mean to forget about the Captain and he still came when he could spare the time, but not with the same urgency he had when he was looking for him in the ice or those first couple weeks that he watched him breathe in and out, like he could count every breath and still not believe that his hero was actually here; that he had actually found him.

"Agent Coulson, nice to see you again," Melissa the nurse said as she wrung out her sponge.

"Hi, Melissa, is this a bad time? I can come back later," Coulson asked looking warily at the sponge and the half-naked captain.

"No, you're fine. I'm just about finished anyways," she said with a kind smile, wringing out the sponge one last time before setting it, along with the bowl of water, aside and fixing the Captain's hospital gown back over his front. She did this with great care, snapping and tying the ends softly, smoothing the front edge, and running her fingers through his still damp hair. Trying to tidy and dignify him after having to bathe him. She knew who he was, she was reminded constantly by the shield sitting in one of the two chairs in the room, and he deserved respect no matter how far gone he was. "All set," she said with one last smooth of the blanket, dusting off invisible specks of dirt. She was the Captains primary nurse/caregiver and she made sure nothing was short of perfect. "I'll leave you two alone now," and she walked away with the bucket, sponge, and dirty hospital gown.

"Thanks, Melissa," Phil said as she walked away and turning his gaze back to the Captain. "How are you Captain?" Phil asked to the empty room. It had felt strange at first, but he slowly grew used to never receiving an answer, but that never meant he would ever stop asking. "I brought a new one today that I think you'll really like," he started as he cracked open the book," It's called The Outsiders by S.E. Hinton," and his voice began slowly, occasionally clearing his throat, before growing into a steady rhythm.

Melissa strode in looking a little disheveled as she sprung open the blinds letting the morning light stream in, "Good Morning, Captain. What a beautiful day it is," she said with a bright smile, "Though, maybe, too fun of a night," she added blushing, and combing through her stringy, tangled hair that had been quickly hustled into a loose bun.

"I wish you could see it, the snow was so beautiful when I woke up. The whole world had turned into sparkly crystal; like D.C. had been enveloped by a snowflake." She sighed, straightening the Captains covers that didn't need to be straightened, since she was the last one who had moved them the night before, taking a glance at the screens making sure everything was as it should be.

"Well, it looks like everything seems to be in order," she smiled again before her eyes dropped and her lips limped downward turning her smile into a sad grimace. She sat on the edge of the bed then and looked at the Captain. She rarely took the chance to study him, she tried to treat him like any normal person, and normal people don't like to be stared at, but sometimes- sometimes she just couldn't help herself. She sniffed and brushed the hair off of his forehead where it hung limply, watering gathering in her eyes. She sighed again and quickly stood up, straightening herself. "Happy New Years, Steve," she whispered, hanging a moment at the door before traveling down the hall to her other patients. And in the silent room, a breath held for too long, escaped.

"Coulson cares a lot about you, you know," Natasha said to the sleeping Captain, "It's only because of him that I'm here," she drawled on. She was leaning back in her chair, legs kicked up on the bed, looking at her nails, and deciding if she should cut them today or not, while glancing at the Captain every now and again. "He seems to have this crazy idea that you'll wake up and when he first said that, I did think he was crazy, but I suppose if you've lasted these past 70 years... "she paused looking him full in the eyelids," there could be a chance." Her eyes didn't stray this time, watching carefully to every motion he made; maybe she would catch something someone else hadn't.

"Come on, Cap, give me something to work with here," she nearly begged, but Natasha does not beg. She stood up now, coming closer to the bed. "You're a fighter, I know you are, so fight this. Wake up!" her hands were now gripping the front of his hospital gown, claws sinking in deep, pincers reader to clasp. When she saw no movement she began again, "I told you to wake up, soldier!" she said more forcefully this time, shaking him.

"Excuse me," a mousy nurse began, having heard the noise and came to investigate. Natasha took no notice.

"Wake up," she whispered this time in his ear, pausing, face poised above his like lovers before a kiss, if this were any other situation. An eyebrow twitched.

"Miss, I'm going to have to ask you to l-" the nurse began.

"I'm done here," Natasha said, releasing the Captain with a small smile and vanishing from the room.

Melissa stood dumbfounded before walking up to the Captain and straightening his gown and blankets again.

"Don't let her bully you," she cooed.

"Does this mean he's going to wake up soon?" Phil asked the same doctor. They were both in the Captain's room, studying him, while the Doctor occasionally took a look at the chart and adjusted a few knobs on the machines.

"I'm not sure. It could have just been a muscle spasm," he said not looking at Phil.

"What do you mean just a muscle spasm? He has had three 'muscle spasms' in the past week!" Phil said, or more like yelled.

"His muscles haven't been in use for quite some time now. I wouldn't get-"

"Get my hopes up?" Phil asked sarcastically. "This is Captain America we're talking about here, you do know that right?"

"Well, of course-"

"Then you know that there is nothing like him. He astounded people in his day and he continues to astound people today. What's to say he can't keep doing it now?"

"I'm only a medical doctor not Howard Stark."

"Then don't shit on his stuff," Phil said before plunking down in his normal chair, which was pulled up to the side of the bed, breathing heavily. The doctor looked at Phil exasperated, mouth opening and closing like a gaping fish, before decided he better not say anything and took Phil's outburst as his cue to leave.

"Come on, Captain, don't let me down," Phil begged, hands clasped in front of him, his head resting on top, "Don't let me down."

"-and they just thought they would finally tell me now. It wasn't like my father had devoted his whole life to creating and finding you or anything. Not like he had spent how many millions of dollars on inventing fancy ice equipment or devoting all of his time!" Tony ranted, pacing back and forth beside the bed, waving his arms around, his body jerking with every motion. "It seems like SHIELD forgets where they get a good sum of their tech and paycheck from. JARVIS," Tony said to the Bluetooth attached to his ear.

"Yes, sir?"

"Make a note to stop funds going to SHIELD."

"But, sir-"

"No buts. I haven't done anything yet, I just said make a note."

"Noted, sir."

Anyways, where was I at?" Tony looked up at the ceiling as if it could tell him the answers he wanted. "Oh, yeah, and Agent just walks into my tower, my tower and starts talking about how you've been here for what? How long has it been? Like four months? And they didn't even think to tell me? I'm like the smartest dude in the world. By now I could have found some way to get your brainwaves functioning up to speed and we could've been having steak and potatoes in Texas. But they neglected to tell me the tiny little detail that freaking Captain America was alive! Who am I to them anyways? Jeez, they hack into my buildings, destroy my houses, take my technology and my money, expect me to save the world, and they can't even let me in on a few secrets that I have a right to know about? Some people," Tony huffed, plopping down into the chair Coulson usually occupied. He turned to the Captain, expecting a response, "yeah, that's what I thought."

He sat in silence for a second, just looking at the man on the bed. He had waited his whole life for this. Had always been told about the famous, Captain America and here he was; pressed, folded, and packaged with a bow. He stood up abruptly and saw a nurse scurry by the door. "Hey, you." She pointed at herself to make sure she had heard him right. "Yeah, you. Come here," he demanded. "I want everything on him. All of his charts, labs, tests, procedures, everything," he turned to her now," You got that?" She nodded. "Good. Have it sent to my PA, Pepper Potts," he rattled off making his way out the door. "If Coulson got you out of the ice, I can at least fix you."

It wasn't Tony Stark that got him to wake up, or Melissa coddling him, or Phil sitting at his side begging, or even Natasha ordering him. It was by his own, God-willed stubbornness.

After that first eyebrow twitch, Melissa was kept on high alert. She focused, she observed, she watched for any type of sign that maybe it wasn't just a trick of the eye; that it wasn't false hope.

He flinched at the cold water from the sponge. She knew then. She knew that she would soon, officially meet the Captain. Every time his breaths seemed heavier than the last, his mouth twitched up in down in sleep, fingers slightly grabbed her hand; was like a new signal, a new sign, that he was there. It was his way of showing that he was not giving up, that he was still alive.

When his eyes started moving underneath his eyelids in dreams- running from unseen foes, kissing long lost loves, saving old friends- was when she alerted Coulson. It was going to be any time now.

It was March fourth 1943 when Captain America, Steve Rogers, crashed the plane into the frozen ocean, it was October 23rd when he was recovered from the ice, and it was March fourth 2012 when he woke up.

Coulson would have liked to say that he had woken with dignity, that it would be something he would remember for the rest of his life- which he would, but not in a god light- and could tell stories about to his children. It wasn't as he expected, but he should have expected the unexpected by now, he was dealing with Captain America.

Coulson also thought that waking up in a strange room, in a strange place, completely disoriented, and not having moved for the past 70 years, would throw anybody for a loop. Add that to a weird tube being shoved down his throat all the way down to his stomach, being suddenly yanked out, and he would have vomited too.

Yup, that's how Captain America came back to the living. Coulson was waiting in the room after Melissa had alerted him. He couldn't believe what he heard and he flew back from Russia as fast as he could. He made it back within the day, which was just one of the perks of being one of SHIELDS finest.

The Captain had begun to stir, his eyebrows crinkling, eyes scrunching, a soft groan echoing throughout the room, before two bright, blue eyes surfaced looking incredibly confused. Phil was elated, his eyes widened, smile even larger, before he saw the Captain's eyes look around uncomprehendingly, his hand coming up to the irritating tube coming from his nose, and before Phil could utter one word, he yanked and pulled the whole thing out, and that thing had to be about two feet long. Though what happened after was not that impressive and it took Melissa a little while to clean it up, Phil was astounded by the sheer strength. Give it to him to find something positive and remarkable to come from that mess.

The Captain didn't seem to register what was going on and promptly fell back asleep, most likely exhausted. Phil continued to watch.

"You are aware that you require food to live, right?" Natasha asked throwing a bag containing a sandwich and a small fruit salad from the local deli at Phil.

"Thanks," was all he said around a bite of food. Natasha could only smirk, endearingly, if that was even possible.

"Any time," she said before taking a seat. "Anything news?"

"Not much. He's been asleep since yesterday morning when he woke up for about a minute. The doctor says he should wake up again within the next couple hours, or that's what his brain activity suggests or something like that," Phil continued around another bite full of food. "I just want to be here when he wakes up."

"You don't say," Natasha said sarcastically, her lips curling upwards again, before her face turned serious. "You think he'll be...okay?" she asked hesitantly.

"I don't know what to expect and I stopped trying to guess." Natasha nodded as if that was a decent enough answer. They sat in silence, listening to Phil chew and the Captain breath.

"Let me know if you need anything, okay Phil?" he nodded, but she didn't believe him.

A groan woke him up. Phil startled awake, looked at his surroundings, and settled on where he was before turning to the sound of the noise and gazed into those deep, blue eyes again, except, this time, they held more clarity.

"Hello, Captain, my name is Phil Coulson. You have been in an accident, but everything will be okay," Phil started in a loud, clear, and slow voice while scooting his chair closer. The Captain looked at him, studying him as if trying to decide whether to trust him. His eyes flicked around the room, taking in his surroundings, looking for exits, thinking of strategy which all took about a minute.

"Sie sind Deutsch?" he asked, studying Coulson's face like there was nothing else in the world, looking for any sign of recognition, any sign of faults; of lies.

"Hmm?" Coulson asked, thinking that he had tried to say something, but with how crumbling and unused his voice had been for the past 70 years, he was probably having trouble speaking. "Do you need a drink of water?"

He nodded his head and Coulson helped him drink.

They sat for a second. The Captain studying him, Coulson thinking of how to best phrase what he was about to say next. Fury had wanted to try to ease the Captain into this new world he had been dropped into, but Phil had disagreed. He knew the Captain was smart enough not to be dubbed for more than an hour at most. It wouldn't work and it would only cause the Captain to distrust them, and they couldn't have that. They brought him out of the ice for a reason. They needed him.

"Captain, what I am about to tell you may be hard to understand, but what I am saying is the complete and honest truth. If you have any questions please ask me. I am here to help," Coulson said with a kind smile placed on his face along with kind eyes and kind wrinkles. He put a reassuring hand on the Captain's shoulder.

The Captain frowned. "I'd rather have anybody's hate than their pity."

Coulson didn't catch it at first. He quickly removed his hand from where it had been placed and worried that he had said the wrong thing. Then, as he was thinking about what to say next, he laughed.

"Welcome to 2012, Captain," he continued to laugh.

"Call me Steve."

A/N Yeah, I know the end is a little confusing. What Steve says is a quote from the Outsiders, so he heard some of what Phil has told him over the past few months during his coma. It was kind of a spur of the moment thing, but it worked. The reason behind this is that, I never liked how in the movie Steve just woke up and started running around New York. I mean, the guy had been in freaking ice for 70 years! He was going to have some damage and not be completely pristine when he resurfaced, even with the serum.

Hope you guys enjoyed. I had fun writing it and considering it's my first Avengers fic, I hope it went well. I'm considering writing a sequel… let me know what you think :)

Stay Gold.