The Lonely Soldier

Chapter One

Steve Rogers had been on ice for 70 years, he awoke to a new world of total insanity. His old life made sense to him, there were Nazi's to fight and a world to save. Good and bad, black and white, everything had been so simple. Now the world was full of tones of grey, the good wasn't always so good, nor the bad as evil as it was made out to be. It was hard to know who the true enemy was anymore. Friends, enemies, Nazi's, terrorists, Hydra, it all seemed one and the same.

Working with the Avengers had given him a focus, even with the tech issues and the aliens confusing the hell outta him. He felt lost in a sea of insanity through all of it. Stark had asked him some what must have been very simple tech questions when they were trying to save the Shield carrier, all he had done was stand there staring with no idea of what he was looking at. After New York, none of them had been the same, they never could be.

Stark had kindly set Steve up with some computer courses, gradually increasing in ability. That had helped greatly, Steve was a very quick study taking in everything he could. Stark had even allowed him to tinker in his lab a few times, pulling things apart to rebuild them see how they ticked. Banner had helped him catch up on decades of medical advances. Shield had left boxes of history files to catch up on, the internet helped greatly. The idea of typing in a question to a computer and a thousand answers coming back in under a second. It was fantastic, Steve sat up half the night reading trying to survive in his new life.

Sleep never came easily, every time he closed his eyes the war came back to him, or New York, or the ice. His nightmares were terrible, he never told anyone. They had all assumed he was frozen instantly, if only that had been the case. Too long he had been awake, aware in a semi frozen state neither living nor dying. Trapped in his own personal hell with no way to escape from it.

Peggy was one of the last few surviving people from his own time, Shield had arranged a few visits. She was so old now, jumping between knowing who has was, able to talk for hours and then sliding back into having no idea who he was. Dementure, it tore his heart into a thousand pieces to see the great woman he had loved, respected and wanted to marry torn down by a sickness that even his super powers could never have fixed. He tried to visit her often no matter how much it hurt, a duty to himself. A debt to be repaid for not spending those seventy years at her side.

Other then going to the gym, running or the odd Shield meeting Steve never left this apartment. The world was too strange to him, the more he learned about it the more isolated, alone he felt. That nurse from across the hall, they had dated a few times before she was moved to another assignment. The new 'watcher' was a guy in his 50's, they never spoke. He didn't really speak to anyone,

As the months passed Steve retreated more into himself, 40's music on constantly in the background his final link to sanity. He stopped most of his research, even his exercise routines slowed down. He started to fall into a deep depression, he wanted to go back home. Back to his own time, his own world. He almost thought about asking Stark to advise if tech was advanced enough to build a time device yet. Somehow he thought the man would only laugh. Either way speaking to another human was uncomfortable now.

Dealing with the winter soldier brought back far too many bad memories, seeing his old training camp falling apart around him. Everything from his time was just about gone, apart from Bucky. There wasn't a single lead on where to find him yet, I mean really how do you track a ghost? Shield being rebuilt just didn't appeal to him, or keep attempting to date as Tasha had advised.

Steven Rogers was lost, lonely, frankly afraid of this world. Attempting his usual run around the city, he only managed a couple of laps before sitting under a tree drinking a bottle of water. Disinterested in continuing, he sat there watching people go about their normal lives. He sighed deeply, the depression settling once again upon him.

"Pathetic aren't they?" a creamy voice asked, "Rushing around in their dull mortal lives so convinced that they will die before they get to where they need to be. So fixated on money, sex, family. Childish sheep just following the path of their ancestors before them, never even crossing their tiny little minds to have a single independent thought. Never break out of the mould society makes for them. This Midgard is full of insanity."

Steve looked up, "Loki" he nodded. Wondering briefly if he should be ready to defend himself before realising he didn't really care if he was killed. "You are not wrong there, I tire of trying to find sense in all this madness."

Loki crouched on the ground next to him, dressed in black trousers, a black sweater. Midgardian clothing suited him well, even Steve had to admire the cut on him. "I could help you, if I was so inspired to do so." He commented.

Steve's interest perked up at that idea, "Why would you help me?"

Loki looked at him a little sad, "Perhaps because neither of us truly have a place to belong. Because I understand what it is to be an outcast. Think about my offer." He vanished without giving time for an answer.

Steve stared at the spot Loki had just been standing on, experiencing a new flood of emotions. What if there really was a way out of this hell?