Chapter 1

Goodbye, Peggy

"Missing someone, they say, is self-centered. I self-center you more than ever."

-Sasa Stanisic

Her brown hair blew in front of her lovely face, obscuring it, a small piece sticking in her lipstick. Her pupils were tiny, her brows fierce. "You can't give me orders!"

"You bet I can! I'm a Captain!" Steve's voice shouted back...

"...This is why you were chosen. Because the strong man who has known power all his life may lose respect for that power, but a weak man knows the value of strength, and knows compassion..."

"This is my choice..." There was a long pause, and then he spoke her name again. "Peggy –"

"I'm here."

"I'm gonna need a rain check on that dance." There was a long pause and Steve stared at the clouds surrounding his cockpit without really seeing them. Then her voice came, restrained, yet full of emotion..

"Alright. A week next Saturday. At the Stork Club... Don't you dare be late, understood?"

"You know, I still don't know how to dance." Steve could imagine her smile through her tears in the communications room back at the base.

"I'll show you." The pause was so great afterward that he thought he lost her, but then her voice came through once again, distorted by tears and static. "Just be there."

Steve took a deep breath and pulled his compass from his pocket, easily peeling off the tiny picture pf Peggy he had cut from some unwanted papers. The piece of tape on the back was old and hardly worth anything; he propped it up in front of his altimeter and pulled the lever without removing his eyes from her face.

"We'll have the band play something slow. I'd hate to step on your –"

Steve's eyes flew open, and he looked about him for a brief moment with blurry eyes, and then took in a deep breath. Slowly it dawned on him – he was alive. He was breathing. He could... move. He flexed his hand open and shut, and his eyes gradually focused on another figure in the room, which looked to be a hospital, or an observation unit, or a... prison.

The figure's back was to him, but he seemed busy, sorting various implements as quietly as he could onto a metal tray, checking a monitor, and then picking up a tiny device no bigger than a half a sandwich and beginning to press buttons on it.

Steve opened his mouth slightly and licked his lips, preparing to test his vocal chords. He began by clearing his throat, and shifting slightly on the bed. The figure turned, and smiled.

"Good to see you around. Did you wake up earlier?"

Steve furrowed his brow and shook his head. "I tho –" He grimaced and cleared his throat. "I don't think so."

The man nodded. "Alright. We weren't sure, but we put you under for another couple of hours to finish our tests. You're really a walking miracle."

Steve closed his eyes and smiled. "We'll see about the walking part."

"I can't wait. Doctor Bruce Banner," the man said, advancing and offering his hand. Steve lifted his arm slowly to meet it and gave the doctor a fairly decent handshake.

"Good to meet you, Doctor. I'm Steve Ro–"

"We know." Bruce smiled again. "Captain America, right?"

"Sure. Who's we?" Steve asked, it finally dawning on him that he most likely was face to face with his rescuer, or a representative of a team who saved his life in some way he failed to remember...

"Long story. Story for when you're stronger. How do you feel?" Bruce asked, sitting on the edge of a nearby chair.

Steve grimaced. "Like I've been encased in ice for a century."

"Well, you're almost right. Do you want to sit up?" Bruce removed his glasses, and tucked them in his shirt pocket, rising, and grasping Steve's upper arm. The super-soldier looked at him.

"Can I get up?"

"Let's start with sitting." Bruce chuckled, assisting Steve in pivoting so his legs dangled over the edge of the bed and his feet rested on the floor. For the first time, Steve caught sight of the clothes he was wearing; he was clad in pants the like of which he'd never seen. The garment ended at the knee, had elastic at the top, and tiny holes all over the slick-feeling fabric. Up top he wore a normal-feeling t-shirt and he wondered, his face growing hot, how in the world he had gotten out of his battered suit and into this attire.

"Where am I?" Steve wondered aloud, looking up to see Bruce tapping the surface of the half-a-sandwich-sized device, causing it to light up and emit a small dinging noise. Steve watched, fascinated.

"Currently, you are in the infirmary of what is called Stark Tower, in New York–"

"Stark Tower?" Steve asked incredulously. "You know Howard Stark?"

Bruce shook his head. "Not Howard. Tony. Tony Stark. He fully redid the plans that his father began, and is probably the most famous man of 2012."

Wait – Twenty-twelve? What are you talking about?"

Bruce took in his breath, and then exhaled, rubbing his face. "I'm so sorry. I was told to break it to you gently, but... I guess I'm just not good at that. That's the year."

"What?" Steve breathed, staring intently at Bruce. "That's – that's..."

"I know. Take your time. It's unbelievable to the rest of us too. I mean –" Banner chuckled sheepishly. "You look like a moviestar from the silent films. The hair..."

Steve idly ran a hand through his light hair, pushing it back from his brow, and finally burst out, "What about the forties? The fifties? The sixties? The seventies? The eight-"

"Yeah, skip them all from the seventies onward. You didn't miss much."

"I missed them? You're saying I missed all of that, and now we're in a new millennium?"

Banner nodded. "Like I said, you're a walking miracle. A lot of things will have changed. It'll be quite the adjustment to make. I'm supposed to sort of, you know, look out for you for a while."

"Thanks," Steve murmured, his mind whirling. "Can I lay back down now?"

"Sure," Bruce replied, standing, and easing him back on the pillow. "Do you want anything to drink? Something to eat?"

"Does everyone still know what coffee is?" Steve asked, rubbing his face.

"Yeah, but I'd just recommend a glass of water for now, and see how your system takes it. Do you want ice?"

"Sure," Steve managed, and took a deep breath swallowing as Bruce left the room. "Twenty-twelve..." He whispered. "Goodbye, Peggy."