Hey guys! I know it's been a while since I've posted a lot, and I intended to re-publish my stories a lot sooner, but I promise I'm going to be back now. Promise. I'm going through and editing them as I go, so please let me know what you think and I hope you enjoy.

Chapter One

I gasp as my eyes snap open, instantly blinding me with bright light. I wince and blink a few times before I dart upright, seeing a room that definitely isn't mine and knowing that it isn't the room they put me in when it happened. My head snaps up when the door opens, and a beautiful woman in the nurse dress shut it behind her and folds her hands.

"Sara Carter?" She asks, her blue eyes friendly.

"How do you know my name?" I demand darkly, trying to remain calm and look intimidating. "Where am I?"

"You have nothing to worry about, Miss Carter. You're in a hospital in New York City." Her voice is a little too calm and relaxed for my taste, and I tense. "Please come with me. I'd like to talk to you about what happened within the SSR."

"Ladies and Gentleman, it's the Captain America show! This week we have our newest addition, issue 43!" The radio sings, and my blood runs cold.

"Where am I really?" I ask slowly, staring at the radio.

"I'm sorry, I'm afraid I don't understand," She says, sounding genuinely concerned.

"The radio's off," I say, slowly rising to my feet and hating the way I look. It was one of the few days I could wear khakis, because women are not supposed to wear anything but skirts, dresses, or dress pants. "I listened to this episode with my mom before they came." I see a muscle in her arm move, and I bristle. "Let me ask again- where am I really?"

"Miss Carter, if you would please sit down-"

I don't think; I just run, shoving past her and ending up slamming through some sort of curtain. I try to ignore the dread in my stomach as I run through the huge warehouse- at least it looks like a warehouse- and try to ignore the yelling of men who see me. Now I wish Mom was here- that they hadn't taken her from me. Now I'm stuck who knows where with no way to contact her. Would she be happy I'm gone or too focused on hurting the men who took me? I almost don't want to find out, but I have to get out of here, no matter what it takes.

I take off out the front door, seeing bright colors flashing in the- flashing in the sky?

I skid to a stop and stare with my jaw dropped, seeing these flashing images almost like magic. I whip around and see people in these weird clothes, skin tight and showing so much skin my mother would have a heart attack.

"Miss Carter?"

I whip around and blink at the man behind me, a black eye patch over his left eye and a large dark trench coat hanging to the ground. He looks like someone Stark could have created, and it terrifies me. "What's going on?" I ask fearfully, edging back slightly.

"The world sure has changed, hasn't it?" He asks casually, seeming unaffected as he turns to look at the magic screens. "You're going to love it here."

"Where am I?" I ask, fighting hard to keep my voice from shaking.

He turns to look at me, watching me carefully. "Like we said, you're in New York City."

I shake my head. "This isn't New York City. Mom brought me here once and it never looked like this."

The man almost looks sympathetic, but I know he doesn't mean it. Men don't care about anything but themselves- except my father, but look how that turned out. "You've been asleep, Sara. For fifty four years."

I feel like the air's been knocked out of me. "You're lying."

He nods to my side. "There's a newspaper."

I whip around and stare in shock at the date. "2015?"

"Like I said, the world sure has changed."

"How do I know this isn't just a trick?" I demand, crossing my arms stubbornly.

The man meets my eyes steadily. "I'm not big on tricking innocent children."

I tilt my chin up. "I'm seventeen. I'm not a child."

He ignores that. "My name is Director Fury. I work for SHIELD- your mother helped found it after eliminating the SSR. Coincidentally after your disappearance."

"I didn't disappear," I say coldly. "They took me."

"That's what I said." He offers a small smile. "We're willing to help you, Sara."

"I don't want help from government agents,"

Fury tilts his head. "What if I told you I'd let you see your mother?"

I go still. "She's alive?" I whisper.

Fury offers me a weird black bag. "Change clothes in the room we had set up. Then we'll talk."

…

The jeans feel weird against my skin, the material tight like panty hose but thick and durable enough to be worn separately. I do like the shoes though. Converse. They remind me of the ones Mom bought me when I was a kid. Aside from that, I'm in a basic white shirt and black bomber jacket that I fully intend to keep. These aren't like the clothes I'm used to wearing; these are actually comfortable- Nothing like the restricting formal clothes I was forced to wear.

It's strange.

I keep my face against the window most of the time, my mind constantly flashing to what it used to be like and comparing it to what it is now. I'm used to less technology. Less flashing lights and signs and so much sexual content. We finally arrive at a large brown building that says Retirement Center, and my hands start to shake with anticipation.

"Remember our deal," Fury says, stopping outside a room. "Cooperation for visitation."

"Ok." Fine. It definitely won't last- I'll make sure of it.

Fury nods, and then he's stepping inside with two agents pushing me behind him.

"Excuse me, Agent Carter? I'm sorry to interrupt your visit, but we have someone who was interested in meeting you." He steps aside, and for a second I think my legs are going to drop from under me.

"Mom?" I whisper, my eyes wide.

She frowns slightly. "I'm sorry, do I know you? You seem familiar… oh! You remind me of my Sara before she left. She had the same dark curls and pale blue eyes." She smiles, happy with the memories, and I'm grateful for whoever has a hand on my back, keeping me from stumbling back and reminding me to stop myself from turning pale.

"What's going on?" A new voice asks, making me jump and instantly turn my attention to him.

I quickly wish I hadn't.

The man in the chair rises, and I know I would know him anywhere. Tall, blonde hair, blue eyes, an almost inhuman shoulder-waist ratio. This is the man who was on the radio and TV a lot; the man who Howard loved more than his own son; the man who became a great American hero.

I'm staring at my father.

"Please excuse me," I manage, turning to run into the bathroom across the hall. I can hear Fury's voice calling for me, but I focus on running until I'm finally in the safety of the restroom.

I lock the door, bury my face in my hands, and burst into tears.