This story was written in one evening, when I sat down at four p.m., I left the desk at 1 a.m. Please beware of angst, everyone angst-sensitive this is not a story for you.
Thank you all for reading.
Steve wakes up and it's the strangest moment in his life.
There are doctors and nurses, some men in suits, even a man in a black leather jacket, swooping as he turns around, and Steve doesn't have an idea what to think.
They talk, they talk in English but they use lots of words that he's never heard, and most of it sounds like technical and medical language, so he doesn't even try to understand. He can't help to note that there are several women, and all of them wear skin-tight black costumes; it makes him want to look away the way there are – exposed.
The leather jacket man yells some orders and a few moments later, it's only him, a middle-aged man in black suit and one of the doctors left.
'You've slept seventy years, soldier,' he is told. It doesn't sound nearly as surprising as it should.
'We won?' Steve asks, him voice cranky and unsure. They all grin, but there is a grim note to their faces.
'We did,' the black man continues. 'A few years after you went down. But there are some other wars going on right now, and we could use some help.'
'Is this a mission, sir?' Steve asks, figuring the man in some kind of commander, wherever he is now.
'It's too soon –' the suit man starts, but he is silenced with one hand gesture.
'It is, Captain,' the commander says.
That's how Steve meets Nick Fury and Phil Coulson; he never learns the name of the gray-haired doctor. They keep him in the white room for two more days, doing tests and tests and tests; when he is left out, Agent Coulson introduces him to a few other people who will help him get up to date with the world.
Steve agrees to everything they propose, since he has nowhere else to be and nothing else to do, since he has no one left, apparently. They are good colleagues but he can tell straight away that it's not going to be friendship, it's not even going to be camaraderie, really. He listens when they teach him about history, brush him up on all the science and pop culture that he's apparently missed, they spar with him and eat pizza that tastes like cheap copy of the things Steve ate a few times in Little Italy, but since everyone else seems to think it's good, he doesn't complain or ask questions.
After two months, Director Fury comes to talk to him and informs his that the doctors think he is ready to go to the outside world, as long as he's going to keep S.H.I.E.L.D. updated, and won't disappear. It's not really a question, they both know, and before Steve realizes he's being led to a small Brooklyn apartment by Agent Coulson. There is a kitchen and two small rooms, a bathroom and a balcony; it's all neat and clean but plain in design, for what Steve is thankful.
'You can have free reign here, Captain. We've set up an account for you, just buy anything you might need or want. Check in with us every day unless you get different orders. And,' the man adds as he's leaving 'I left you some folders on the table. I hope you'll find them useful.'
Steve nods and closes the door. He makes himself a plain sandwich, pours a glass of milk and sits down to see what it is: he expects some mission debrief, or more of history books. Instead, he finds one thick file with 'Avengers Initiative' written on the front, and a stack of personal files of his war-time friends. He decides that Agent Coulson is the closest things he has to a friend.
He reads the Avengers documents first, because for the first time in months, he is absolutely horrified with what probably is in the personal dossiers.
Thank you for the files. I'm in for Avengers, he text Coulson; it takes him a long time because his fingers are just so big, but he's so much better than at the beginning.
I'll schedule a meeting with the others. Good to have you onboard, the man writes back instantly, making Steve smile a little.
He plays some old music in a cd player that one of the Agents taught him how to use; he goes for a twenty mile jog that lasts half of the night because he keeps staring at things and at people, distorted and strange in the artificial colorful light; he tries not to think what Howard would think about the technology and how Bucky would love those improperly dressed girls; back in the apartment he does sit-ups and push-ups and pull-ups until he's sweaty and exhausted and collapses into a bed, but he has enough experience being super-soldier to hope for more than four hours of blissful sleep.
In the morning, he stares at the folders that stare back at him persistently; he is saved from the fight by Coulson who calls him and tells him he can meet at midday with the two S.H.I.E.L.D. agents that were chosen for the Initiative. He eats breakfast, takes a shower, choses some clothes that seem appropriate, what is still difficult, back in 40's he'd wear at least slack and crisp shirt for such a meeting, but he settles for a pair of 'chinos' and a checked shirt.
Both of the agents are in their uniforms.
At the end of the day, they are Clint and Natasha and although she is an ex-Russian spy assassin and he's a criminalist who got pulled out of jail because he could shoot a bow, Steve thinks it might work. Maybe they can even be friends, one day, but for now they are too – contemporary – for Steve to be enthusiastic. He still has trouble operating the microwave and ticket machines, though he's at peace with the phone and tablet: it's a great thing about new tech, that everything is made to be intuitive, and even Steve's outdated mind understands how things work. It's refreshing and reassuring, even if he doesn't think he'll even get used to it.
The following week, Natasha teaches him to play games on his phone, which he's never bothered to try but it turns out to be interesting, Clint introduces him to Thai, and Coulson asks Steve to call him Phil, since he'll be in charge of the team and the other two people he's known for years. Steve agrees, even if it's a bit hard at the beginning, but it's not more difficult than moving on from radio to internet in a matter of a days.
It takes Steve half a month of staring at the papers each morning and evening before he musters up the courage to open them, and he learns that everyone is dead but Peggy. It gives him a mini heart attack, and when he recovers, he puts 'How Deep Is The Ocean' on replay mode on his phone because it reminds him of the girl, and listens to it for four hours straight, until it's morning in England and middle of the night in the US. He calls the nursing house and they even patch him through to Peggy, but she – she doesn't remember anything.
The doctor says he is sorry, there are days when her memories come back in flashed, but note recently –
Steve hangs up and cries for the first time since he woke up, letting himself break, letting himself fall apart. When he's out of tears, he goes out and runs until the sun rises and passes south; people start to appear and the whole New York wakes up to life. When he can't go on anymore, he sits down in a shadowy corner somewhere and then spends the rest of the day trying to get back to his house without money or map or his cell phone.
Natasha and Clint are there, asking where he's been, telling him they've been worried since he didn't call for two days, but they shut up as soon as they notice the open folder and connect the dots. Clint orders a takeout, Natasha disappears and comes back fifteen minutes later with bottles of cream soda and 'The Lion King'; they fall asleep on the sofa before half of the movie passes.
The next day Steve takes another look at the files because he can't stop himself. He reads the data and absorbs every information. He decides that he needs to visit Peggy and all the living relatives of his best friends, that apparently are only thee since too many people died young, before they could have a chance of starting a family.
He spends the next month between training, meeting with Natasha, Clint and now apparently Thor who claims to be a god, which Steve things is atrocious, but the man is kind and happy and addictive, and they are all quick friends. And he pays some visits. He asks Coulson for a favor, planning to see Peggy first. The man asks him to come the next day, and when Steve does, he discovers that he's going to the UK with Phil, while Clint pilots the jet. He tries to protest, but they are not listening, so he gives up and spends all the flight listening to tearful songs from 30s.
Peggy doesn't remember him, she doesn't really remember her name, but when he whispers her everything he's always wanted to tell her but never got the chance, before crashing into the ocean, she keeps a smile on her wrinkled face.
On the way back, they don't even exchange a word. It's Steve who proposes a night in, and so they do. They try to watch 'Aladdin' but fall asleep again, only it's five of them this time.
He asks Natasha about Howard Stark one time, because his file is surprisingly thin, and she makes a strange face, then an angry one, and storms out of the room. Steve blinks a few times, but he has no idea what has just happened, so he lets it go and asks Thor to spare, which they do. Steve is happy to have someone who can take him physically, because before, everything seemed too easy.
When they come back up from the gym, they meet Clint who looks half-amused, half-horrified, and Natasha who is scowling.
'She punched Director Fury,' Clint informs them and Steve's eyebrows shoot up, that is – unheard of.
'Howard Stark had a son, who is very much alive,' Natasha explains and Steve blinks, because it doesn't seem like a reason to hurt the Director. 'Fury left him out if the dossier because he's been in a mental facility for almost two decades now.'
Steve stops breathing for what feels like ages.
'So he decided that Howard's son is not worth mentioning because of that?'
He notices how Natasha and Clint relax, and he understands that they've been wondering what his outdated self would think about a mentally ill person, since in his times they'd be treated like possessed or contagious.
'I want to meet him,' he says. Howard's son. Whoever he is.
Natasha brings the address the next morning, along with a debriefing packet on schizophrenia that Phil has apparently prepared during the night, and a short note about the man. Anthony Edward, born on May 29th 1970, school – MIT, apparently he was a genius, parents died in 1991, a few months later admitted to a hospital after a failed suicide attempt. He was out for a few weeks, one time, before being admitted again and has been closed in ever since. One of the reasons, it seems, is that there is no body who could take care of him, no family, no one – which makes Steve's stomach clench.
Steve doesn't really know what to think, so he decides to act. He leaves a message to Phil and takes a train to a small town where the private facility is, but when he arrives at the place he finds a S.H.I.E.L.D ID card in his bag, so it seems that Phil knew before Steve what the captain would do.
It turns out setting a meeting with Anthony is not difficult, but it means having a talk with his doctor first. The man seems nice enough, but Steve is too distracted to remember his name; he recites security protocols, yeses and noes, and in the end asks Steve why he's here.
'His father was my father's close friend, sir, but I didn't know that he was all alone here,' Steve recites the story that he decided to stick with since he couldn't really say 'me and Howard worked together during WWII'. The doctor nods gravely.
'That is a very kind think you're doing,' the doctor says. 'But I must warn you that Anthony sometimes is – violent. Or unresponsive. Generally unpredictable. You're lucky he's feeling rather good these days.'
Steve is led to a common room, where all the patients can play games, watch tv or read, under a constant supervision, of course. The place looks very neat and clean, but not in a hospital way; it's as warm and welcoming as it seems possible. It makes Steve a bit happier.
He is asked to wait by one of the tables, unoccupied currently, and a few moments later the doctor comes back leading a man. Anthony looks younger that he is; not tall, with messy dark brown hair and brown eyes, emphasized by dark bags underneath. He is very thin though and looks a bit lots, in his red t-shirt, loose cotton trousers, and with bare feet.
'Cap,' he greets Steve, who freezes. Anthony laughs at that, for some reason it sounds unsettling.
'Mister Stark,' he greets, stretching a hand out. Anthony looks at it as if he didn't know what to do, but after a moment he gives Steve a short light handshake and slips onto a chair, drawing knees to his chest in a protective gesture.
'Doc told me there was some Rogers to see me, figured no other Rogers would come since no one ever comes, save Obadiah once a year before Christmas.'
Steve blinks at the openness, he's been expecting more reluctance, more withdrawal, and Anthony seems – normal.
'And don't call me Mister Stark, please.'
'Anthony, then,' Steve says, swallows, and wonders what is he doing here. This idea suddenly doesn't seem as good as he's thought. He notices the man's grimace. 'Anthony?'
The man offers no explanation, so Steve doesn't push.
'Why are you here?' Anthony asks. Steve doesn't know how much he can – wants to – say, but he keeps to the truth.
'You seem to know who I am,' he says first, instead of an answer.
'Howard has been trying to fish you out of the ocean for decades, I figured they'd have to find you eventually with today's tech, and I've read about the serum when I was in school, and since I'm kinda smart, I've predicted that you might come out of the ice young and very much alive.'
It is a lot, but Steve still gets an impression that it's not the whole truth, but he doesn't ask.
'I've been visiting families of my friends from… before. You are the last.'
'They didn't tell you I existed, trying not to hurt your 40s views on crazy people, how nice,' Anthony states and laughs again, it's the same dry way. 'So, how are you liking the mental institution?'
'It seems… homey,' Steve answers truthfully. He is not sure what he should be saying or doing, but Anthony doesn't seem to mind his awkwardness.'
'Homey, huh? I guess it is. You should see it during holidays, really, all the atmosphere, music playing, scents of food other that the usual bland mixes, singing songs… Or maybe not. Not really. Unless it's music therapy,' Anthony adds and makes a face. 'Did they tell you why I'm here?'
'I've been informed you suffer from schizophrenia,' he replies. It's more difficult to say that than he's thought it would be, but there.
'But do you know, exactly?' Anthony asks, kneeling on the chair and leaning over the table to be closer to Steve. His eyes look tired, so tired from up close. 'I don't think I'm allowed to talk about this outside of therapy with Doc, but you can keep a secret, right?' Steve just nods, frozen in place. He feels – overwhelmed. 'They think I'm crazy, because I tried to off myself nearly two decades ago, a few months after my parents died… And because I'm too smart for them to understand. And because I talk to myself.'
'That doesn't sound too fair,' Steve comments, because all those reasons are not enough. Anthony smirks and winks at him, but Steve can see past the game, he knows that the man is exhausted and insecure.
'Well, right, I left out the best part for the end, I told one shrink at that hospital when he asked me why I tried suicide and why I was behaving so strange, You are not going to believe this, but sometimes I talk with myself from an alternative dimension. They drugged me so that I'd tell them the truth, and surprisingly, they did believe me and diagnosed me with schizophrenia and put in a closed unit, labeled as a danger to myself and to those around. All the fun.'
'Erm…' Steve murmurs, but he doesn't know how to respond to that. It sounds really crazy, the story, but Anthony seems to think the doctors disbelief was silly and unnecessary, Steve cam tell he firmly believes in what he's just said.
Anthony has the strange grin on his face, as if he was going to burst out laughing or crying anytime.
'Okay, sorry, didn't want to break you,' Anthony says, backing away and slipping back into his chair. 'How about you tell me some stories? How do you like the 21st century?'
'It's loud,' Steve says immediately, because it's one of those things that are more obvious every single day.
They talk for half an hour before it's dinnertime. A soon as all the patients are asked to go to the canteen, Anthony says a quick goodbye and asks Steve to come by when he has time, then his face changes, closes, darkens, and the last Steve sees of him is how he's almost literally dragged by two male nurses to the dining room. Steve doesn't understand what has just happened, but he promises that he'll go back, stating that into the suddenly empty space and later to the doctor, who seems okay with the idea.
Steve takes a train back, staring out of the window all the time, and when he gets back to him apartment, he takes out Howard's file and writes in a neat handwriting, under the family section, 'Anthony Edward Stark.' He wants to add something more, but he hesitates, and never finishes.
Clint sneaks in soundlessly, since Nat and Thor are out of the town, and they spend the evening with 'Casablanca' and a variety of sodas of all imaginable tastes, which is Clint's idea of cheering-up activity. They don't exchange a word until after midnight.
'Anthony said he is talking with someone from a different dimension,' Steve states, knowing that Clint will pick up the question.
'It's not possible, Cap, not in this world. Even Reed Richards says so. That's what schizo is about, hearing voices. Seeing things.'
'Mhm,' Steve murmurs. They watch some more movies, Clint falls asleep and Steve goes out onto the balcony, where he sits in a slight warm drizzle for the rest of the night, then goes for a run and comes back with fresh hot bread just in time for the archer to wake up.
The world continues to go on and Steve rolls with it, but he's still not sure what he's doing, although he's getting better at that.
Bruce Banner is another addition to the team, which happens when S.H.I.E.L.D. needs someone with his brains to trace some radiation and in consequence stop aliens from invading the Earth. It's the first official Avengers fight, but they are helped by a few superheroes who could be borrowed from other teams, and they manage to capture Loki and send him away with Thor to be judged in Asgard. The rest of them is bruised and battered, but they are – happy. Adrenalin still rushing through veins, they have a celebratory meal together, managing to stop dr Banner from running away again, and the next morning he is just Bruce; Natasha buys a dozen pairs of trousers in his size and gives them to Steve and Clint, in case it was needed.
Bruce stays and the roles shift a bit, but the scientist fits in well. And he can cook a mean Thai, which is Steve's favorite from the modern multicultural selection, because white dogs and BBQ steak will always be the beast, along with milkshakes that he gets alternatively from two little shops where they greet him by his name, like an old friend.
The Avengers in action also means their identity being public, and suddenly everyone knows Captain America is back, the people in Anthony's facility too, when he comes back. Steve is a bit embarrassed by all those autographs and photos, but he's slowly getting used to it.
'So you are our Captain,' the doctor days, giving Steve a gleeful smile.
'I am, doctor. But please do not treat me any different, off-duty I am just Rogers.'
'Of course,' the doctor agrees and Steve knows the man will observe him whenever he'll have the possibility, like a laboratory experiment he is.
'Good job on saving the world, Cap, thought I wouldn't mind too much if you let the aliens come here, maybe I'd have some fun' Anthony says without a greeting. He's wearing the same clothes that he was wearing before, and his face seems even more sunken than normally. There are some bruises on his arms, too, that look alarmingly purplish-green.
Of course Anthony catches him staring.
'I haven't been a good boy, apparently,' he says easily. Steve only frowns. 'Seeing you all fighting made me kinda nervous, which in turn made me vomit all the food I ate, so they pumped some nutrition and tranquilizers straight into my veins, bravo, that's the bright side of 21st century medical tech. You can't even choke on pills.'
'Why would it make you so nervous?' Steve asks, because it's the only part of Anthony's reply that doesn't' make him want to run or scold the man for being so offhand.
'I know too well how many times it doesn't work out, especially since you don't have Iron Man, and I was hoping you'd come back again 'cause you're the only one who's visited me, but I mentioned that before, and it's be boring if you died. I'd die of boredom.'
'How do you know?...'
'I did mention I talk with my counterpart, didn't I? She told me. She'd been to many universes, and in each the story is different. Hence my worries.'
'You were worried enough to vomit because of that?' Steve asks before he thinks, and it sounds rather sharp and wrong when it's said out loud, but there is no taking it back. Anthony doesn't seem moved by it, he looks as if he's expected such reaction.'
'I told you she was real, no? You are allowed not to believe me, if you want,' the man pouts. Steve doesn't know what to say, really, so he offers to tell Anthony more about the fight. It's almost an hour before Steve has to go, and he makes Anthony swear that he'll try to eat more, now that the Avengers are safe.
Anthony agrees, but his mumbled words 'for now' keep ringing in Steve's ears all the way back.
Steve volunteers his time to schools, charities and youth detention centers, talking with young people and trying his best to use as much of his power of persuasion to make them consider changing their lives. Usually it works for as long as he is there, he knows, but he gets some letters from teenagers and young adults who have decided to let themselves be inspired; Steve puts those into a special folder and keeps safe in one of drawers of his desk.
The Avengers train and spend time together whenever they can; it includes surprisingly much cooking and bad jokes and surprisingly little fear, at least once Hulk learns to listen to all the commands Steve gives him.
When after volunteering or training or saving the world Steve comes back to his apartment, he spends most of his time listening to music. Everyone tells him to watch movies instead, what seems to be the thing to do, but it still seems too strange for him. Music is explainable, understandable, familiar, even though he has to make a transition from cracking vinyls to flawless digital records. He goes through decades, trying to listen to the most important music of each time, but he keeps going back to some songs that make him feel a heart-wrenching longing, make him feel all the years that he's missed – that are gone, and will never come back, and his dream is just to be thrown back there, to experience it all – it feels wrong to listen to the music in 21st century, sometimes. He goes back to 'Norwegian wood' and 'Heart of gold' and 'Sound of silence', to 'All tomorrows parties' and 'Smells like teen spirit', 'House of the rising sun'; he doesn't exactly like all of the songs, sometimes they are more noise than anything else, but he understands why.
And when Steve learns exactly how many of those artists committed suicide, he can't sleep for three days.
The next time he goes to see Anthony, he decided to ask the man why did he want to kill himself, which is not very sensitive, but it must be done.
Steve is still not sure why he keeps coming back.
Anthony says he's tried to kill himself because he was 'a stupid self-absorbed fuck who couldn't keep his addictions at bay, and see where it led.' Steve says he can't see where it led.
'Maybe I wouldn't be here if I didn't fuck up my brain with booze and drugs, but who knows. It wasn't planned, that one time, I wasn't really going to – anyway. It's been a few months after my first meeting with Toni, and I told Obadiah that I want Stark Industries to stop making weapons because of everything that she's told me, it was making me sick, knowing what was – fuck, what is still happening to all the guns and bombs. Obie said I was crazy and there was no way I could stop designing and producing weapons. I was so angry. And stoned. So there. And also, I did a few experiments during those months that ended up with explosions, so danger to everyone, but it was just science. These doctors don't understand science… Sometimes I think it is Obadiah who persuaded the doctors to lock me here, since I am a danger. I'm quite sure of that, in fact. But then everyone thinks I'm crazy, even you. And the shrinks are too good to eat my lies, if I suddenly started to behave normally and say I don't see Toni anymore. So there. Impasse.'
Steve takes a moment to understand what he's just been told; it seems a bit incoherent and the blank spaces are years long, but he can work with that (and he can't help but remember the lines about conspiracy theories from Phil's debrief.)
'Isn't Mister Stane like… your father-figure? Together with Howard? I've read he's always been at your graduations, when you won contests…'
Anthony laughs, but his eyes turn so dark that Steve can't help but shiver.
'Maybe he used to be, but now he is only someone who pays so that they keep me here and not in a public place, where the staff and everyone wouldn't be so discreet and I'd dishonor Stark Industries and Stark name in general.' The words are rather bitter, but Steve knows that it's how the world works now. He hates it. But – it's too late to change anything.
'I'm sorry,' he offers.
Anthony scoffs and changes subject, asking about a press conference the Avengers did a few weeks back, and Steve welcomes the enquiry with relief.
Steve learns a lot about the world: Bruce teaches him some biology and physics. Jane teaches him about stars and galaxies that are so far away that they should be unknown, but amazing people like her know more about them that Steve knows about his neighborhood. Clint takes him to bars and clubs and to sports games, along with Coulson and Natasha sometimes. The latter two teach Steve languages, and he finds out that he's pretty good with them; he brushes up on German and Russian, before starting on Hindi with Bruce just because he can.
Anthony teaches him Italian, because Maria taught him the language.
Between battles that happen every month or so, and missions that S.H.I.E.L.D. sends him to when no one else can manage, Steve learns how to drive a car and gets a driving's license for both cars and motorbikes. He learns to use GPS and play stereo music in Clint's car that he's allowed to borrow, and goes for short road trips now and then, just him and the radio and American roadside bars and milkshakes. He learns to use an e-reader instead of going to library, because too many people bother him there. He gets modern clothes and some new furniture, a few electronic toys and a few pieces of Avengers merchandise that he shows to no one, but he's sure that they all know.
He still thinks about Bucky and Peggy and everyone from Howling Commandos too much, and spends nights on the balcony or running, if he can't clear his head, but someone is always there if he needs them. And when he doesn't, he closes himself in his room with earphones blocking all sounds other than the mellow music.
And he thinks about Anthony. The man is a mystery, and it pains Steve to see him so alone, so lost, so vulnerable when he is still a genius, in a way, despite his illness.
Steve learns Anthony makes himself vomit when he's forced to eat anything with rice, or drink watery tea with no milk or sugar. It's not often, but they can't treat patients differently, the doctors say; it makes Steve's blood boil. He wonders if it shouldn't be available for patients to have specified diet, since it's a private facility, but learns that: one, it means money Stane apparently isn't going to pay, and most-important-two, it's bad for therapy because Anthony once mentioned he refuses to eat those because of something that Toni told him, about some events in another dimension. It'd be encouraging his sick behavior. It hurts Steve, but he understands the doctors decisions.
So when Steve comes back one time after a month-long mission out of the country and sees Anthony looking healthier – with some weight put on that makes him look more human and less skeletal, with colored cheeks – he can't not ask why.
'But don't tell Doc, or he's freak put – Toni told me that in one universe she's been to recently, another Toni was anorexic and lost a child because of that, and I – well. It's not like I can change something, but it seemed… inappropriate. Not to eat.'
Now Steve is starting to feel insecure with how Anthony believes in his own stories, and how they affect him. It is something different listen about it, but now he can see solid physical changes and they make the illness feel more real – too real.
But he is Captain America and more than that, he is still the same Steve, so he doesn't let himself be discouraged, and keeps coming for visits. He even brings other Avengers a few times, not Thor, because the doctors would have him immediately removed, but Natasha and Clint and Bruce come. The assassins don't have much time to spare, so they only come a tag along times, but Bruce is there every two weeks with Steve. Anthony likes Bruce most because, he is a genius, and they talk science in a way that Steve isn't able to comprehend.
It all goes well until one time Anthony starts to nag Bruce about theories about alternative universes and he won't stop talking, begging, shouting – Bruce leaves, saying that it's not safe, they all know what he means but it comes out all wrong anyway, thought Anthony claims that it doesn't matter, because 'someone is fucking going to show you, hell I'd show you if you let me! –' It ends with doctors giving Anthony a shot that makes him go rag-doll limp in the their arms, and Steve stands there the whole time frozen with wide eyes.
Anthony is scary when he's like that, because he almost makes you believe he is right.
After that, it takes a few weeks before Steve can talk with Anthony again: there are more villains than usually trying to take over the world, so the Avengers go from continent to continent with other superhero teams trying to stop all the attacks, and at the end of the seemingly coordinated series, they are all bone-deep weary and aching, and go away for a week to Hawaii, just because it's warm and isolated.
When they are back, there is lots of rebuilding to be done in the USA and they help when they can, it's good PR, but Steve would do it anyway. They sort out rubble, pick up things too heavy for normal humans to remove, talk with people, eat takeouts, and every evening they are too exhausted to stay up for movies. Steve even skips his morning runs and learns to make waffles, treating his teammates every morning with energy surge.
Everything is normal.
The next time Steve visits Anthony, the doctor forewarns him that the man is not feeling good.
'He gets like this from time to time, depressive episodes, it's not uncommon. We didn't figure out a way to make him feel better yet.'
Steve doesn't know what to expect, but surely it's not what he sees: Anthony is in his bed and he looks as if he were dead. He's – he's not moving, and his chest is hardly going up and down, his eyes are closed and he has an IV attached to his arm, and a tube going into his nose.
'Anthony?' he asks, but there is no answer. Only his super-hearing lets him make out the man's shallow breaths. 'Anthony?'
There is no reaction. Steve reluctantly comes closer to the bed, then sits on the stool that stands by it. Nothing happens. He sits for some more time, calling Anthony's name a few times, but there is still no response, so he gets up, feeling defeated and just sad, and leaves the room, glancing at the man before he walks out – the same, the same.
He goes to the doctor and asks him what's wrong. Apparently Anthony gets like that once in a while, and it can last from a few days up to a few weeks. Steve doesn't know what to say or what to do, he still can't figure everyday life sometimes, there are still surprised even after all the time he's been awake, so he certainly can't understand modern medicine. He says goodbye and goes back home and runs for five hours straight, still in his nice clothes and leather loafers, before he can even go back to the apartment.
Then he picks up a pencil and draws for the first time since 40s.
He sketches Anthony, sitting in his usual t-shirt and pants that make Steve wonder if he has any other clothes, with his face resting on knees, arms wrapped around his legs, the usual small smile playing on his lips, his eyes tired, tired and brilliant. Steve desperately needs a proof that the man is still – alive. Conscious. Responsive.
Real.
The finished piece is nearly not as nice as Steve wanted, since his hands are ridiculously out of practice, but it captures the most important part well: Anthony's eyes are sparkling, full of life even if not happy – he never seems really happy – and his body looks alive, muscles working, cheeks slightly flushed.
Only when he finishes he is able to fall asleep, but two hours later he is woken up by Clint, who says as much as 'duty calls', and Avengers assemble. The battle is quick and efficient and they get some falafel afterwards, and this time it's him, Natasha, Clint, Coulson and Banner sitting in the middle of Natasha's living room's floor, getting the sauce all over the wooden surface and themselves. Steve feels good, he feels at peace, but he can't relax completely because he's wondering what's going on back there.
Anthony is in the same state when he visits again, next week. But this time Steve's not going to run away, so he decides to talk. At first he feels awkward, as if Anthony would suddenly – wake up, and do something, but after fifteen minutes he doesn't even flicker his eyelids. So it gets easier, and Steve tells him about the mission and about Natasha and Bruce, and Clint and Coulson and Thor and Jane; he can only imagine what Anthony would say if he was up, about Steve being the old-fashioned prude, waiting for a real love.
But Steve had a real love, back then, and sometimes he feels like he still has, thought she doesn't remember his name. He has a standing request, that in case Peggy is – herself, he should be informed. He'd come in the matter of hours, even if the world was falling apart. Even if it was to exchange one sentence only because she was, she is the only one. Then it'll be just him and not even a ray of home. Just him.
The Avengers are amazing, but it can never be the same.
Fury sends him and Banner for a mission in Africa and it takes twice as much time as it was supposed to, and when they come back they both are unshaven, thinner, have callouses on their feet and crave American food. At least the missions was successful.
A few cheeseburgers later everything seems better.
When he visits Anthony after the month, the man is his usual self and doesn't even mention what has happened, not before Steve asks.
'I get bored,' he says. 'What? Don't look at me like that, Cap, I get bored, really really bored. It's like intellectual Sahara here, believe me. Everyone seems happy with the tv, movies, crosswords and therapy fun. I don't. I try to be nice' (which is true, Steve has seen enough Anthony interacting with other patients, as much as he was an insufferable asshole sometimes, he was genuinely nice and talked to everyone like to an old friend, which they probably were, given that Anthony has been there for almost twenty years. What is kind of unbelievable but real.) 'and all, I even take my medicine, hey, but sometimes I can't stand this doing-nothing anymore. My mind, my body, they just shut off.'
'Doesn't the medicine help?' Steve asks, because he is genuinely curious. He's read that the modern pills can be very effective. Anthony does his bitter-scary laughter again, making Steve want to disappear.
'Of course it doesn't, Cap, none of it does – do you think I'd be here for such a long time if the medicine helped to get rid of my insane visions, or whatever? It doesn't. Because they are not a result of an illness. Full stop. You can try whatever you want, and it's not gonna work.'
'Why do they give you the pills still, then?'
'They say they have hope. Fun, no? But I try to play along, because when I don't, they put me in a white room and restrain or try some new form of therapy that makes me want to puke, and really. Bored here. All I have is here is my mind, and Toni, but she comes every few weeks, months sometimes. Well, and you, recently. So yeah, thanks, Cap, from putting me out of my misery,' Anthony finished dramatically, making Steve roll his eyes.
'I try,' Steve replies, and he does.
The next month, which marks two years since he woke up, Steve gets a phone call from England, saying that Peggy is feeling worse, so Natasha and Clint take him there immediately. Coulson is in South America, so they don't wait.
Turns out they got there just in time to catch a last few hours of her life. She does recognize Steve, what is strange because she hasn't been giving any indication of being aware of her surroundings for a long time. They don't talk, not really, there is so much to say that it's better to stay silent. Steve holds her hand and smiles, she smiles back. There is morphine flowing in her veins and her eyes are a bit cloudy, but she calls his name a few times.
The one things she really says is: 'I'm glad I wasn't waiting in vain.'
Steve falls asleep next to her, wetting her hand that he was holding with his tears. Clint drags him to cafeteria to eat something, so he chews the food mechanically; it tastes like nothing.
She dies a few hours later, and they stay for the funeral. It's done with military honors, with many important people coming, and Steve somehow manages to blend in the crowd, staying at its edges, and this one time he is nor recognized, or maybe he is, but people are tactful enough not to bother him, since the whole world knows their story.
Steve runs two marathons, in length, before he can stop and stay in one place. He basically passes out in the plane, so Natasha wakes him up a few minutes before landing.
For the next few days someone is always in his apartment. It's silent and unobtrusive, a natural human presence, and lots of handmade cookies everyone leaves for him. He is so, so grateful.
It takes him two more weeks before he can visit Anthony. He bakes some cookies himself, and as soon as they sit down by the customary table, he tells the man:
'I understand better now how you can go crazy, after someone you love dies.'
Anthony eyes him scrutinizingly.
'I don't think I loved my parents,' he says. 'At least if I did, I can't remember that. They always left me alone. I was with the family butler more than with them.'
It hurts to hear that, because Steve still can't imagine Howard being like that, making such a terrible mistake; he was a genius in the end.
'Who is the butler?'
'He – died when I was a teenager,' Anthony offers in a blank voice.
'I'm sorry.'
'It was when I was a teenager, don't make me remind you how old I am, Cap, because it hurts my ego. And don't go mad, please, it's not fun here, I sweat – or of you do, at least ask you fellow Avengers to place you here, will ya?'
'Of course, Anthony,' Steve replies. 'I made you some cookies,' he adds, presenting the brown paper bag with a neat ribbon. Anthony eyes them suspiciously.
'Why would you do that? Is this some hidden feed me idea? Because I've totally been eating nicely.'
'I thought you'd like them,' he explains. It figures, that Anthony hasn't been getting gifts for no reason, that he hasn't been getting any gifts at all. 'We do cooking as team bonding, you know, and Phil – Coulson – knows all the best recipes.'
'I sweat, this must be the only universe – bonding via sugary pastries? With marshmallows? Toni will die of laughter when she hears that, my universe is totally the best –' he stops there abruptly, noticing Steve's concerned face, and shakes his head. 'I know, I said something I shouldn't have, I'll shut up now.' And then he shoves the cookies in his mouth, letting crumbles fall on the table, and they pretend nothing has happened.
Time passes, days melt into one, everyone grows older.
Steve doesn't, not really, and it freaks him out.
He stares at the drawings of Clint and Natasha and Bruce and everyone else, even Anthony, and notices the subtle changes: a little deeper line between Clint's brows, a few grey hairs on Bruce's head, more of those tiny wrinkles around Anthony's eyes. Everyone changes, slowly, inevitably, and seeing that makes Steve feel as if he was drowning.
Thor stays the same, but he is immortal, and Steve doesn't know what to think of that.
When he woke up, Steve thought the future was new and scary, but it was just as lie, just an illusion: he adapted, he survived, he worked it out. It was not all the newness that is terrifying, he knows now. It's that it never stops, never, and everyone keeps moving on while he is, again, the one frozen in time.
Anthony tells him not to kill himself over the time issues, because – quote – 'it's apparently possible, if you try hard enough.' Steve promises he won't but he can't stop wondering what apparently would be a method good enough to surpass the super-soldier serum. It's hard to make his brain remember that what the man says is not even true.
The Avengers save the world a few more times, train, have fun, and it's almost perfect. Thor and Jane marry, and so do Clint and Coulson. Natasha and Bruce still refuse to officially even admit that they are together, even though everyone from the S.H.I.E.L.D. personnel holds some kind of a bet about them.
All of sudden, it's five years since Steve' waking up.
He doesn't go to see Anthony as often as he wants, because he has more missions since he's the only single Avenger, making him the first to be sent out. Anthony seems quieter, but recently he's been insisting on telling Steve more and more about Toni, which has always been a taboo because the doctors think that when he gets agitated – it's encouraging, and it's not good for the therapy that is still going on, even though Steve can admit to himself, after all those years, that it doesn't work.
But Anthony – he isn't stable, he's not exactly getting worse, but he gets mad sometimes an hurts himself, claiming that it's better than hurting other people, or he shouts for hours or stays comatose for days and days.
'It's easier when Toni is here,' he explains. 'We can talk, she's amazing, bright and amazing, and she promises she'll try to find a way to get me out of this fucking universe –'
'Why can't she do that now?' Steve asks, because it pleases Anthony when he asks questions, and it's been hanging between them for quite some time.
'There is a no-interference rule, that's why no one can see her but me, and that's why she can't do anything. And almost all of the people in her world are dead, there's been a war, a bad one – well, never mind – she's brilliant enough to have found a way to travel first. It was, come on, almost thirty years ago – I am so fucking old, I can't believe this – and some worlds have done it already, but most are few decades behind.'
The talk is not much longer after that, because Anthony kinds of freaks out about his age, what is not his schizophrenia talking for once, just being scared of the magical 50 approaching. Steve knows that it's more staged than real, but promises cookies anyway and Anthony calms down a bit, as if he was a small child, what is kind of sweet.
Another time, Anthony tells him this:
'When I was a teenager, I used to stay up days in row because my brain wouldn't stop, I was creating and inventing and here they never let me do anything because I'm smarter than they are, and they think I might make something that I'd use to hurt myself, or break out from here or travel between universes, which is totally true. It hurts to know how dumb I've become over the hears, compared to what I could have been, because I can't even be up to date with science research here, and it's like a torture, of course no one ever cared, they cared of sleeping pills work at night so I fall into, basically, unconsciousness.'
Steve can't come back for a month after that, because he's angry at himself and at the world and at everyone who's ever hurt Anthony, or at anyone and anything that could be behind the illness that has destroyed the life of a man who Steve happily calls him friend, now, despite everything.
'If I was out there inventing, I'm sure we'd be much closer to understanding dimensional travel and making it real, just no one but me believes in it, and I'm mad.'
Anthony has becomes – bitter, about lots of things. His laughter is drier and deeper and sadder, and the wrinkles on his face get more pronounced and Steve is almost as young as he used to be, aging slowed down about ten times, according to S.H.I.E.L.D. scientists.
Stane dies and Steve pays for Anthony's stay in the facility after the pre-paid period ends; at least at this point the doctors stopped feeding the man rice and tea in order to help him. They gave up on him, apparently, but Anthony doesn't seem to mind.
Steve draws more and more furiously, draws faces as he remembers them and as they are now, draws old faces and the new ones, too, and too often finds himself unable to keep the pencil in his hand because it trembles too much when he can't muster the courage to make the first, second, hundredth line.
These days, he always feels as if there isn't enough time.
Then it's seven and eight and nine years after waking up. By tenth, there are four Avenger kids: Thor and Jane's twin boys, their youngest boy and Clint and Phil's adopted girl. Natasha and Bruce are godparents to almost all of the kids and happen to be around more than everyone has expected at the beginning, but no one ever asks them if they want children on their own.
They all spend some great moments together, doing things that Steve never had a chance to try before: playing baseball in Central Park, visiting children sections of museums, going to Disneyland, getting all covered in flour in the process of teaching the youngsters how to make sugar cookies, pretending to be Santa Claus and playing Easter bunny, reading books to sleep, toys shopping, drawing 'commissions' for Mother's and Father's Days.
Steve still visits Anthony every month, but the man seems to be less and less rational, less and less responsive, even though he's still as sweet and as witty as before. They eat cookies and reminisce old battles, and Steve tries to pretend he doesn't notice how Anthony fades away, too soon. He says a lots of things Steve has never expected to hear from him, because they are sentimental and full of pain and longing.
Anthony keeps thanking him for being there, but Steve feels like he could have done more.
S.H.I.E.L.D. starts to train new superheroes, because apparently there were more extraordinary people out there, and creates a group of Young Avengers, who are amazing individuals in Steve's opinion, though he'd still prefer if the name was different. He doesn't complain, though. He takes part in the training, teaches them everything he can but it's not long before the young ones surpass the old.
Not too long later the Avengers fight their last battle together, although they aren't aware of that at the time. They win, because they always win, but it's so difficult for everyone, physically and mentally. Nothing is said out loud, they have the usual takeout and movie routine. Luckily the kids are blissfully asleep since it all takes place at night.
Thor and Jane's kids are practically teenagers now, and Clint and Phil's daughter not far behind. They live as one big family and Steve loves being called uncle and the kids love when he appears on their school events, and everyone loves getting milkshakes from the same place that Steve's always been going to, even though it'scalled differently now. The flavors are the same.
A few weeks after twins graduate from high school, two years early, both taking after their mom and excelling in science, Anthony dies. Steve is not there, he is with Phil halfway across the world, on a meeting of government agencies that is held in India. When he gets the message, because the nurses have been nice enough to pass on all information regarding Anthony, Steve walks out of the meeting without a word of explanation, boards a jet and orders the pilot to fly him back; he is very glad when the S.H.I.E.L.D.-trained man doesn't protest.
Steve takes care of Anthony's funeral, although later he is not sure how he managed that: it involves a lot of paperwork, phone calls, more paperwork. And hours of running, in the meantime, to clean his head.
The service is surprisingly small and calm; Stark Industries hasn't had anything to do with Stark since he was incapacitated, so only a few people from the company come. There are some people who went to MIT with Anthony, and all the Avengers with families; Steve didn't have to ask.
Strangely, it's more difficult to accept this death than Director Fury's, or some agents' that Steve has known well. But then he realized that it's probably because he'll be the only one who will remember Anthony.
The inevitable takes more time that Steve has expected, but then it happens: Thor is going to be the king, finally, after all those years. Jane and the kids decide to go with him. The kids are half-gods and will have long, long lives, and they are heirs to the throne, and Jane won't leave them.
It's three months before they are finally gone, but to Steve it feels like no longer than a blink – then suddenly they are gone.
Clint and Phil both get to meet their grandson, but they both pass away soon, a few weeks apart from each other. Alia's husband is military and can't be with her after the funeral, so she stays with Steve for two months with the baby. It's a difficult time, with too many tears, but later Steve remembers it as happy: all the hours they spend together with the boy, figuring out how to cope, how to go on; it's the first time Steve lets himself really, really grieve.
Then a few years later Natasha is killed; she's still been doing solo ops since the serum she had in her veins made her age slower. There is no body to bury.
Bruce doesn't Hulk out, they go to the memorial service together and he just spends the night with Steve and Alia and the rest of her family, and when they wake up in the morning he is gone. No one sees him again, although they get a postcard of a tropical beach with palm trees and white sand once, a few months later; it has no signature, but all it says is 'Thanks for the trousers and the food.'
Thus everyone but Steve is gone, everyone from the First Avengers, like they call them now because Young Avengers became just Avengers when the people grew older.
Steve writes a note to S.H.I.E.L.D asking to leave him alone for some time, gets an old-fashioned bike and drives across the USA three times. There has never been enough time before, and now there is nothing for him to do, not really, and the endless amounts of time that stretch in front of him make him terrified.
After the road trip, he just tries to go on somehow, days of Howling Commandos and First Avengers melt together, turning into one tangled web of things said and unsaid, things that were done and that Steve wishes were done but it's just –
He tries not to wish, not to dream. Not anymore.
Alia dies, her kids have kids, Steve pretends it doesn't hurt to look at them and is secretly glad that they don't bear biological resemblance to his teammates; that would be too much. Thor visits once in every ten years or so, because time flows differently on Asgard. He doesn't change.
And it's not until forty eight years after his waking up in the 21st century when Steve understands.
He wakes up in his apartment – it's still the same one that he's been given all those years ago, just renovated a few times and equipped with all the newest tech – and at once he is aware that something is very wrong. He sits up and takes a small gun from the nightstand's drawer, makes a few silent steps, feet bare, and walks up to the front floor: it's closed, all locks untouched. He frowns, because the flat is totally sile–
No. There is someone on the balcony, he can hear the person breathing. He should have known.
Steve steps into the other room and immediately notices that the doors are indeed open, so he walks up slowly, body tense, a few ideas and plans brewing in his head as he remembers all the similar situations he has been in; but then when he sees who it is – he freezes. The person speaks.
'So you know.'
Steve is aware it would be easy to claim it's a phantom, if only the voice wasn't his – the man looks like a perfect copy of himself, down to the shape of eyebrows and the style of shoes that he's wearing.
It clicks.
'What have we done,' Steve states, his voice cold and breaking as he realizes what the other Steve's arrival means. Anthony – he's been right. All this time, and they – and we've –
'You'll be okay, hey, pull yourself together!' the other Steve orders forcefully, but Steve can't breathe and it takes him a few long moments to calm down enough to comprehend what the other man is saying.
'Toni told me about this place, we've met a few years back… You haven't figured out the travel technique yet, have you? Really, it'd be much quicker if Tony worked on the project…' the other Steve sounds more like he's talking to himself, but one thing catches Steve's attention.
'Tony?' he asks weakly.
'He did tell you that, didn't he? None of them like being called by their full names.'
Suddenly, Steve remembers the unexplained grimace, when he's been called Mister Stark and then Anthony.
'I didn't –'
'Don't worry, Cap, you'll get a chance…' (No one has called him Cap since Anthony, and he isn't sure he should let himself think about this right now –) 'Don't worry, really, we Steves age slowly, don't we? You should still be around when they invent a time-travel machine,' the man adds with a grin, gets up from the metal chair, salutes Steve crisply and jumps over the balcony's barrier; when Steve gets there in three big steps to look down, the falling body just disappears into nothingness.
'Time-travel machine,' he tastes the words at his tongue, staring into the New York in pale light of sunrise, yet to wake up for real, humming like a giant sleeping beast.
The words sound bittersweet, but a smile creeps up on his face, and he tries another one:
'Tony.'
