One, Zero, an avengers fanfic

Title: One, Zero

Rating: T

Character(s): Steve Rogers

Summary: A few of the higher ups in SHIELD began to suspect that there were some striking differences between Captain America from the history books, and Steve Rogers. There was no definitive proof. But they suspected. Oneshot

Disclaimer: I own nothing in this story except the secretive 'best friend' of Steve's and even that is just a part of the idea of what's going on.

Warnings: A bit of back and forth time jumps in the story line. For the most part it's in order. Sort of. A little bit. Well, this is your warning regardless.

xXx

Everyone knew Steve Rogers. Everyone knew he was Captain America, and his history before he became Captain America and led his team the Howling Commandos to the biggest impact in American History in the world.

He was America's first real superhero. Their first symbol of America embodied; of justice in person. He was infallible, and he was a man to strive to be.

Everyone knew his history. How he grew up in Brooklyn, New York, the son of an Irish immigrant and best friends with the only Howling Commando to give his life to his country. How he had skill not only in protecting the nation, but in creating art as well. He perfectly polite, and though he had the ability to offer mercy to his enemies, he showed none when they did not deserve it. He was a God-fearing man, and even his birthday was the same as America's Independence Day.

Everyone knew Captain America.

When SHIELD found him, still alive, in the frozen remains of his greatest act of sacrifice, they knew him and were as relieved to know he would stay with them as if he were a brother finally coming home from a long tour.

A few days after he was released from his final check up, a few of the higher ups in SHIELD began to suspect that there were some striking differences between Captain America from the history books, and Steve Rogers from Brooklyn.

Steve Rogers gave no clue to what those differences could be.

Captain America gave no hint that there were any differences to notice.

There was no definitive proof.

But they suspected.

(Maybe no one really know Captain America…? Naw, everyone knew Captain America.)

Steve knew he was different from most since he was a young boy. For one, he was always ill with something or other. For another, well…

"Geeze, Stevie. What'd you do, tell him his daddy wasn't?" Bucky asked lightly as they quietly made use of the first aid box to not wake anyone in the house. Steve didn't bother to hiss at the slight sting, though the strong smell was something he didn't think he'd ever get used to.

"No. I prolly should try that one though."

"Steve-!" Bucky caught himself before they woke anyone. "I swear, I should make ya clean yourself up if you gonna be throwing yourself into these types of things."

"I never asked you to clean me up in the first place, Buck."

"You don't have to. I can tell when you need help with anything; be it cleaning up your busted lips or finishing your fights before you break any bones."

"I was fine. As long as they left Lucy's skirts alone and stopped trying to treat her like she was a medium rare steak just for them." Steve growled. Bucky paused for a moment, still unused to the tiny blonde's vicious nature peaking through his skinny and frail-looking package. The guys bothering their middle school classmate wouldn't have seemed wrong to him, would have just seemed like harmless fun, if Steve hadn't put the situation into words the way he just did. He felt another flash of unworthiness compared to his friend, and vowed again to try harder to be a man his brother from another mother (as Steve would say) would want to keep associating with.

"Next time, you bring me in from the start, pal." Bucky managed to say without too long of a pause. Steve grinned, and Bucky knew there would be no promises. That was fine. Steve has always managed to be mostly okay, despite how he looks like before Bucky starts patching him up.

"I had 'em on the ropes."

"Sure ya did, punk."

"Jerk."

Also, Steve's sense of justice was not the level of justice for the age he was growing up in. He knew this. He knew this extremely well. Bucky was barely starting to realize this, after five years of being friends with him.

Everyone knew Steve was a different man from most after he woke up in the 21st century. Not because of the time he grew up in, that was a given. In SHIELD, he could wield with great precision most of the weapons handed to him. This could be because of his familiarity with them from previous training and missions, the lack of great differences as the weapons advanced through the times, or even the Super Soldier Serum in his veins. Most thought the last reason was the real reason.

The other oddity, was his ability with technology.

"Captain!" Steve didn't bother looking at the agent working with him as they continued through the simulation drill.

"Status?"

"We have two injured and a retreat order has been called. Another two of us are not responding to radio hails."

"Well then, follow the order of retreat. Take care of our injured."

"Yes sir!" The agent saluted sharply before a hint of uncertainty leaked through at the realization that the last order was a shift of authority. Steve didn't bother staying anything else before shouldering his straps and taking the few steps necessary to leap out of the small shelter. With a small touch to his mask near the corner of his eye, the world suddenly took on a different hue and dimension.

To Steve, everyone's location in the training field was suddenly revealed and disclosed to him, as well as their status. Once, Steve also had the ability to find their identities and histories in a matter of moments, but he could not and honestly shouldn't be doing that at this time anyway. For now it was enough to begin thinking of a stealth course, and after a moment to find the different security devices such as cameras and recorders and radios, Steve made his move.

To the rest of the training field, Steve disappeared until he suddenly found his missing team members and swiftly and without conflict brought them to safety in retreat. It wasn't what they wanted, with the orders to retreat nor with the bait to see what Steve would do with missing members without a clue to where they were or if they were alive or traitorous. But it was acceptable and certainly nothing different than what he has been known to do since he became the first and only super soldier of America.

When it came to technology, no one knew how well he truly understood it. When they first tried explaining the internet and smart phones to him, he would look gradually confused and hadn't really taken to using it on a daily basis. He would look resigned when he had to answer a phone call than frustrated or startled. Regardless, there were many moments when he seemed to fall off the grid of any technological equipment.

Steve's abilities, prior to and after the Super Soldier Serum were not fully understood. Only Steve knew the difference, and he wasn't planning to tell unless he absolutely had to.

(A direct order from Director Fury only had him repeating the explanations of the internet in a roundabout and confusing manner. It was decided phones should be the most technology Captain Rogers needed, and heaven forbid he need a computer for whatever reason.)

Steve had a thing about technology. Not even Bucky fully knew the reasons why the little blond boy would one moment look interested and fascinated by something mechanical or technological and on a similar device look bored or unimpressed.

With the bright and interesting inventions of Howard Stark, these were especially confusing.

"Wow, Stevie! Look!" Bucky and the two dames that were on a double date with them - Bucky's idea, not Steve's certainly - oohed and awed at the display where Howard Stark himself was going to present to the Stark Expo audience his newest gadget related to the car on the stage.

"I wonder what it'll be about?" Lily wondered from Bucky's side.

"It's a pretty shnazzy car anyhow." The other, Charlette?, added from Bucky's other side. Steve, on Charlette's other side and not necessarily too far to say he was not part of the group, only took in the car for a glance before catching Bucky's warning-pleading gaze to not dismiss or belittle it, please please please.

"It's probably supposed to fly." Steve said in a bored tone anyway. The group's eyes lit up.

"A flying car!?" Bucky nearly gushed. The girls burst into peals of excited giggles.

"Probably. That one doesn't look like it'll actually fly. I bet it'll be at least 100 years or so before we'll be able to fly in personal cars." Steve shrugged. Bucky casually pushed him away by his shoulder.

"Stevie, flying cars! Be more optimistic!"

"That poster does look like the car isn't on the road." Lily added.

"Ooh! I want my first car to be a flying one!" Charlette smiled.

When the Expo got underway and Howard Stark himself presented the 'car of the future' to the large crowd, Steve resisted the urge to say 'I told you so' when the vehicle only hovered unsteadily for a couple seconds before failing to get back up.

Bucky would have cuffed his buddy again for being right, again, but the punk was trying to sign up for the war for the umpteenth time so there was no chance to.

Steve had a thing about technology. It wasn't that he didn't like it. He did. He just had an uncanny knack of predicting whether an idea was possible, and if it wasn't then he'd always tack on when it would be. It drove Bucky crazy, but at the same time it made for some interesting nights when he'd convince his brother to tinker on something with him.

"Ah, the soldier. A man out of time!" Loki had declared when Steve first met him.

"I'm not the one out of time!" He replied without thinking.

It wasn't until after the alien invasion was over and done with, after the quietest victory dinner ever, after the third debrief and after Coulson's final resting place, that Steve gave thought to what it was he really said in that moment.

He was taking advantage of Tony Stark's hospitality, not wanting to go back to SHIELD at the moment, when he remembered the short verbal spar.

It hit him like a punch through his very lungs.

It made him see spots.

He had to sit on his bed, slouching heavily with his head between his knees.

He had to force himself to continue breathing (imagining the words Bucky to say in similar moments when he'd have an asthma attack).

He swallowed, and when his fingers no longer tingled he noticed that there really was a man sitting next to him, awkwardly patting his back and babbling nonsense ranging from what the weather was like and halfhearted threats to please keep breathing because he would never hear the end of it if Captain America suddenly had a heart attack in his care.

Tony Stark was trying to help him, even if he didn't know how. JARVIS must have called the man.

"Sir, vitals are returning to normal limits for Captain Rogers." The AI announced. Steve felt a twinge in his temple in a way he was beginning to suspect would be normal when hearing the AI's voice. Tony snatched his hand off his back.

"Yeah? You okay, Gramps?" He checked, nervously rubbing his hands together.

"Yes. Thanks Tony." He said quietly, taking a calming breath as he mentally muddled through his epiphany.

"What happened? J said your vitals suddenly spiked and you barely were able to sit on your bed before becoming unresponsive…" Tony asked, sounding worried.

"Just... I think I'm homesick." Steve said instead of the truth.

Tony had absolutely no idea how to respond to that.

Steve was a little homesick, but he accepted what had happened to him and certainly Loki's words wouldn't have brought such a reaction.

The truth, however...

The truth was much more complicated, and he honestly feared what SHIELD would do if they found out. He hoped they wouldn't think much of those damming words. He hoped they didn't realize what he had actually meant. He wasn't ready yet. He didn't want anyone to know. And, as Captain America, if one person found out, the world would be next. The only way to prevent a major uproar of any kind was if Steve revealed it himself, but not only was he completely and utterly not ready yet, but it still wasn't time. He couldn't!

(And if Tony ever found out before he set some context, the snarky 'It seems to run on some form of electricity' line will probably be immortalized and never forgotten… ugh.)

When Steve turned thirteen, he received the best present he could possible ask for from his Bucky's family.

"You, want to adopt me?" He stared at the paper in his hands. Mom and Pop were smiling with watery eyes, and the girls were three seconds away from squealing and cheering. Bucky looked flabbergasted, and Steve had no idea what to do or say.

"You are part of the family, Steve. You've brought us so much joy, we're certain this was God's will. Even if you don't want to make it legally official, you'll always be a part of this family, honey." Mrs. Barnes, Mom, said.

Steve swallowed dryly, lowering his eyes and fighting the urge to cry.

"I... I love you all." Well, he may have cried, but at least he managed to speak clearly before the tears of relief hit him.

It wasn't until the drafting started that Steve truly regretted the decision to make it official. After all, if the Barnes family had more than one son, then they'd be eligible to draft. If not, then Bucky wouldn't need to fight, no matter what the jerk said about not knowing about the draft. (Steve saw the letter. He read the news. He knew. There was no lying about this war.)

After countless battles and missions and victories, Steve could honestly say he was proud of what the Avengers were becoming. There were many rough edges, and too many mistakes to call them perfect, but they had a system and they had teamwork. Steve led them as easily as he led his old team. Perhaps even easier, but that wasn't something he was going to ever admit.

The only thing that would make it better, is if he could find a certain someone. Unfortunately, it wasn't yet time for him to meet her again.

"Alright, so anyone got any guesses to where our targets and hostages are?" Clint asked. Natasha was checking her Widow Bites as Tony started conversing with JARVIS.

Steve tapped the corner of his eye subtly, fixing his cowl as he did, and then he could see the building and everyone in it. After a moment, the indicators revealed who had a weapon and who was immobilized.

"I'd say our hostages are on the middle floor, and most of our targets are taking advantage of the higher ones. We should probably be careful of any of our targets posing as hostages just in case." Steve knew just who was posing where, but he couldn't exactly say that.

A few minutes later, Tony confirmed his own agreement, and the team set off. As usual, one of his teammates curious gaze – Natasha, today - did nothing to make Steve look at her.

After Steve raided the enemy camp to save Bucky and countless other American soldiers, his reputation grew and his freedoms were granted grudgingly. He may be Captain in name only, but it became clear there was no mistaking his ability, intuition, and success.

Bucky admit to the Howling Commandos that he wasn't sure why Steve was so intent on joining the Enlisted rout, rather than the Officer route. It was obvious he could have not only gotten a degree out of Officer school, but it was where he should have been.

"Then I wouldn't have been in the field as early as I needed to be, Buck." Steve replied from behind the group, fiddling with his cowl. The group opened a little to get their Captain with them rather than outside of their circle.

"Not that I ain't grateful, but you're seriously too good for me and the family, Stevie." Steve looked up at the other man, and offered a smile.

"I just did what anyone else woulda." The guys snorted unanimously.

"Yeah, except you got the serum to back you up."

"Even without it, I still woulda done it. Even without Howard, I woulda done it. Even without this shield, I woulda done it." Steve looked every man in the eye, holding Bucky's the longest. "I have a thing against bullies and lack of manners."

Bucky was the first to quirk a grin at that.

When Steve answered that grin with his own, everyone else felt comfortable enough to laugh. But Bucky and Steve knew that there was no exaggeration in those words. Steve was serious.

And he really did have the ability to do it all even without help. After all, when he was first going through those halls, he knew exactly how to get to Bucky, and how to avoid the fights he didn't need to waste time on.

That was not an ability given to him by the serum. It was something he's had since before he met Bucky.

When Tony first saw Steve in front of the laptop, he was still waking up to appreciate it was the first time he saw Steve with a computer. When he finished his coffee and was capable of polite (for Tony Stark) conversation, Steve was gone and the laptop turned out to be Natasha's.

The woman looked surprised to hear Steve had been the one to change her background picture. Then she narrowed her eyes.

"That's not nice, Tony. Don't be blaming Steve for things you do." Tony frowned back.

"Excuse you! I didn't touch your laptop! I was just saying I saw Steve sitting in front of it!"

"Steve doesn't use computers. Everyone in SHIELD knows this. He barely tolerates his cell phone."

"Well, sorry for answering your question with a truthful response. I didn't touch your laptop. If you don't want anyone messing with it, don't leave it out." After a moment to scowl at Tony's snobby huff, Natasha looked up to the ceiling.

"JARVIS?"

"Sir is telling the truth, Miss Romanoff. He did nothing to your personal computer."

"Who was the last person to touch it?"

"It was Captain Rogers, but only to move it slightly away from the edge of the table. The last one to touch the keys and mousepad were you, Miss Romanoff."

"What?" Tony asked for her.

"…Tony, do you by any chance have the ability to play recordings of what JARVIS see?"

"Um, maybe?"

"I'd like to see if my desktop changed at all before or after Steve's moving it."

After a moment, JARVIS played a short clip of Steve yawning into the kitchen before starting the coffeepot for the caffeine addicts of the team. Then he made himself a couple pieces of toast and sat in front of Natasha's laptop to wait. When he got his napkin and toast, unbuttered ("The uncultured moron!" "Shut up, Tony."), he lightly pushed the laptop away with his free hand before elbowing the table to rest his chin in his hand while he ate. His fingers curled around his eye, and it looked more like he was sleep-eating than getting ready for his morning workout, but by the time Tony came in to get his coffee, still no one had actually touched the keyboard.

With another angle, the screen could be seen to display the flowers in the snow that Natasha first had it on. There was no angle that could see the screen after Steve sat down to eat, as he moved the laptop in just the place where his body would block it, but all fingers were accounted for and Steve didn't even seem to be interested in it. However, by the time he got up to throw away his napkin and head to the gym, the background was different.

Even JARVIS was stumped.

Bucky liked computers. He couldn't use them well, or even often, but when Steve started going to college for art classes, he decided to give it a go too if only to have access to the computers.

It was Steve to teach him how to type, finding the corner computers for them to be able to practice without anyone bothering them. Or to make notice of how he was teaching him.

But Steve was Bucky's brother. He didn't care that the little blond punk had his fingertips over his as he spoke softly the words he was typing, the letters he was pressing, as Bucky got used to the different movements and could see the words being spelled on the screen.

"When did you learn to type, Stevie?" He thought to ask one day.

"Before we met, Buck." He said. Bucky wondered if Steve's Ma had a computer or typewriter, and why Steve never said anything. This was important stuff to be able to do.

"You wanna learn a bit of programming before class starts?" Steve offered.

"Sure!" Bucky smiled. Then he frowned a little. "Hey, what happened to your eye glass?"

"Oh... It cracked. All the pieces are too small to fix." Steve lied. But he looked disappointed and sad, so Bucky figured it musta gotten lost or stolen or something similar.

"Sorry to hear that. You wanna see if we can find another?" Steve rubbed his eye he normally wore the eye glass on.

"No, I'll be alright without it. It's not like I needed it to see or nothing."

"But, you had it for as long as we met. You threw a fit when Jason White took it that one time and threatened to keep it."

"I didn't like Jason White. He liked to spit of darker skinned folk. I just used that as an excuse to get him in trouble." Even though it wasn't surprising, Bucky still stifled a laugh.

"If you're sure, Stevie. Where'd you learn programming anyway?"

"Here and there." He said, rubbing his eye again.

"Stop that. You look like you got pink eye now."

"Do not."

"Do too."

"Jerk."

"Punk."

It took the Avengers nearly three years to finally admit to each other that there was something strange going on with their esteemed leader. It made Tony snarky and more sarcastic. Bruce wavered between unconfident and daring when needing to interact. Clint pulled most of his initial friendly jokes and barbs, only replying to those that Steve starts which didn't happen as often as Clint used to. Natasha seemed to act the same, but she was always watching, either obviously or not. Thor picked up on the unease and didn't necessarily change as much either, but he did spend most of his time with the others as priority.

This didn't bother Steve. If anything, he seemed more amused and relaxed. This did not help the weird feelings everyone was picking up.

Stuff happened, and the moment with Natasha's laptop was only the first they readily admit to.

Steve fumbled with media and social norms, but he excelled in managing the people around him.

When the thing with the Mandarin happened and Tony had been alone, Steve had called to check up on him, giving him strange advice that Tony hadn't understood until after everything was done.

When Natasha and Director Fury had to suddenly take care of HYRDA plants in SHIELD, Steve disappeared and none of the information released on the net said anything about him. The Winter Soldier himself became another ghost that Natasha couldn't explain and sightings of him became sporadic before once again disappearing off the face of the earth. When Steve returned to the Tower, he looked at everyone in confusion before explaining he had taken a holiday to go camping, he said this a few times, why didn't they remember, why what happened? SHIELD is what!?

When Steve called Jane Foster to check on how she was doing and whether she'd like him to encourage Thor to visit her more often, he was the reason Thor found out something was going on with the woman and was able to take care of the Dark Elves. It helped that Thor was that much sooner at Jane's side to give her the assistance she needed with the power that could have killed her.

When Bruce and Tony's idea for the benefit of mankind turned out to backfire spectacularly, Steve disappeared right after Vision had been created, and came back with Wanda and Pietro and the words "Tony, I think we need to talk."

Tony didn't let him.

Steve didn't push it.

Bucky and the guys trusted Captain America. They trusted the words from Steve Rogers even more. Bucky said because then he could see his brother's face. Steve said because the cowl was intimidating even with the funny feathers.

When Captain America said to jump off a cliff edge, the guys would eyeball the bottom before doing so.

When Captain Rogers said to grab the guns to go out, the guys would ask how much ammo would they need as they start double timing it to their weapons.

When Steve Rogers said to eat the sludge he cooked for supper, there was not even a nod before they did so.

Sometimes this sludge would taste like nearly rotten eggs. Sometimes it be as delicious as your grandmother's special oatmeal. Sometimes only one of their bowls would taste too spicy to eat. (You fucking punk, give me your bowel. Dammit!)

One thing that surprised everyone was the near fluency Steve had with languages. It made the guys excited to be able to share such a thing with their Captain, and it definitely boosted morale when the man admit trying to figure out a way to make a multilingual code to avoid their discussions from being understood. This wasn't because they shared sensitive information, per se. Mostly, they just wanted to be able to talk shit about things without getting other people offended.

The group learned languages. This was kept a secret from even headquarters. Bucky learned the quickest, explaining his zeal as not only having to catch up with the guys who were already bilingual, but because he couldn't wait to be able to insult the assholes who thought their group was worth less than it was.

"Buck, I think I need to tell you something I found before rescuing ya."

"Sure, brother."

The call to arms prevented this discussion, and then there just wasn't a point anymore.

It happened without warning. Steve was researching something new and interesting in his bed with his best friend when there was an energy around him and Steve felt his throat close and eyes water at the sudden sensation of static.

When he opened his eyes, hands were shoving him for attention and he was terrifyingly numb and freezing. His blanket was wrapped tight around him, and it took him a few attempts of pushing those hands away before he realized that he was outside.

"Come on, buddy, on your feet!" A boy was saying to him.

"I-" Steve's shivering skinny body betrayed him as he suddenly let out a series of hard coughs, forced out of him from the trembling he couldn't help. The cold air was like needles and sandpaper, and Steve was hyperaware that if he wasn't paying attention, his body might just forget to keep breathing.

"Come on, pal! I ain't gonna leave you, but you gotta help me some! Just a bit more!" The boy over him was saying. Steve whimpered, hurt and confused and actually very scared – was that snow falling all around him!? – but he tried his best to use the boy's help to get to his feet.

"I-" He tried to say again, unable to see past the white white white cold around him. He wanted his mother. He wanted his friend to start explaining what happened. He really wanted to be warm.

"Good heavens! Bring him in, son! Quickly!"

"Yes ma'am!"

Steve heard a few other voices, and when he could feel the warmth of a multiple blankets thawing him out, he let himself sleep. When he woke up, he found he was no longer home, and instead in a city called Brooklyn.

Mrs. Barnes was nice, always warm and nurturing. Mr. Barnes was an old soldier who got out from a training injury, and he didn't let his missing leg keep him down. The two twins, Becca and Lenise, were just toddlers and always exploring things together. Bucky, the boy who found Steve, was pretty stubborn and protective. He was born to be a big brother.

They were a very generous family, considering the time and place he found himself in and the struggles they no doubt had when adding him into their care. Steve felt guilty for not being able to help out more.

"Steve, son, just stay in bed today, okay? The authorities are looking for your family and it'll do you no good to get up in your poor health."

"I can help with something, Mr. Barnes. I ain't gotta be charity." He argued, unable to help but mimic the accent of the family he had been with for the past week He pushed against the man's large hand.

"Yeah, like what, squirt?"

"I can, um, do repairs? Sell art? I dunno, something?" Mr. Barnes didn't move his hand, and eventually Steve stopped pushing against it so that he could relax his lungs.

"You rest up, Steve. That's all we want you to do. The winter can take people, and we're praying the Lord won't let it take you too." Steve refused to groan, extremely uncomfortable with the faith this family had in the church but not willing to say anything. He was a guest.

"Yessir."

"Good lad. With snow keeping good school boys home, why don't you rest and when you wake up you can keep Bucky company. As long as you stay in bed."

"Yes sir." He repeated more clearly. He didn't mind Bucky. Bucky was nice and pretty cool. After Mr. Barnes left for the trip he needed to take to get an update from the police, Bucky slipped into the room. Steve waved shyly. He was using the other boy's bed, but no one seemed to mind. If anything, Mrs. Barnes was grateful that Bucky now had someone warm to cuddle with at night like everyone else did. The snow was falling lightly, but steadily.

"Budge over, punk." Steve did, relieved to have Bucky's warmth. The blanket helped, but the air was still cold. After Bucky settled under the covers, changed into socks and pajamas even though it was early afternoon, he set a pile of papers on Steve's lap.

"What's this?" Steve asked, plucking the pencil up before it rolled off the blanket.

"You said you could draw." Bucky said as he shifted closer. "Do art." He demanded in the way only bored boys could. Steve felt a flash of sorrow for the loss of his best friend, the delicate monocle he had for her lying useless on the nightstand. She would have liked Bucky. "Well?" Bucky prompted, nudging his shoulder.

Steve considered the papers in his lap, shifted them into a neater pile, and twirled his pencil as he contemplated. It's been a rather long time since he used pencil to draw.

"Hm…" Steve hummed as he tapped the paper lightly. He resisted the urge to draw anything unrecognizable or damming. No need to get in trouble or draw unnecessary attention to himself.

"You liar, you can't draw nothing." Bucky huffed, leaning back and not sounding particularly bothered. Steve shook his head to focus on his new roommate.

"I can! I just don't have no inspiration! It's called an Artist's Block! Give me an idea!" Bucky hummed in thought before pointing out the window.

"Draw that!" He ordered, not even looking out the window. Steve saw nothing of real interest, just the street with the trees covered in snow, but he rolled his eyes and sketched out a rough draft. He could do scenic scenes. He would have been more interested in people though.

Bucky leaned up after a minute. "Whoa!"

"Hey!" Steve tried to snatch the paper back from Bucky's quick grab. The bigger boy had a longer reach though, so short of climbing out of the blankets and onto him, Steve couldn't get it. "Buck, I wasn't done! Give it back!"

"No way! This looks amazing!"

"No it doesn't! Let me finish!"

"I ain't done looking!"

"I don't care! It's not fit for viewing yet!"

"Back off, punk!"

"No way, you jerk!" Steve nearly squeaked as he tried to fight Bucky's strength and his growing urge to cough at the same time.

"Just let me see!"

"You can see while I work! Give it!"

"No!"

"Bucky!" Steve yelled out before he broke out in a coughing fit.

"What is going on in here!?" Mrs. Barnes snapped as she came into the room. Steve was too busy trying to breathe while Bucky sat rigidly, one hand holding the drawing over the floor and the other cautiously patting Steve's back ineffectively.

"Uh, Steve was drawing?" Bucky tried when Steve was able to cough quietly. He offered the drawing to his mother.

"And that gives you right to heckle the poor boy? You know better than to be yelling in this house for nothing!" She barked before smoothing her dress and looking at the paper. Steve watched her eyes widen in surprise.

"Bucky wanted me to draw what I saw out the window. He ain't letting me finish." He explained, feeling embarrassed.

"Finish?" She asked faintly.

"I only just started." Steve mumbled, feeling self-conscious now, too. "It don't look good right now..."

"Steve told Pop he could help us by selling art. I think he's really really good!"

"I'm not a professional or anything." Steve fidgeted. Mrs. Barnes looked at him with a wondrous gaze before giving the paper back.

"Steve, I think you have a very precious gift. I don't want you to feel obligated to try to make money for us. We just want to find your family."

"And if we can't find my ma?" Steve wasn't getting home. He knew this. He was letting the Barnes family try, because that was what was expected of him.

"We'll consider that road when it comes." Mrs. Barnes said gently. "Let your gift grow, Steve. Don't put pressure on yourself when we can still make due." Steve nodded, and Mrs. Barnes placed a kiss on his head before giving a warning look to her own son and stepping back out.

"...Can you do a dog next?" Bucky asked.

Steve rubbed his nose and rolled his eyes.

The police ruled out kidnapping and runaway, but they had no way to find Steve's family. He was placed in an orphanage for the rest of Winter, sick, weak, and cold, before the nuns began to look for a foster family for him.

Steve could admit that he was very lonely and scared.

The foster family that asked for him by name – which worried him – turned out to be the Barnes family – which was a great relief.

(Bucky cuddled with him as long as he could as soon as they brought him home, angry at the orphanage for how much weight Steve lost and how sick he had managed to get in the cold.)

Steve was grateful, and relieved for the familiarity that the family provided.

When Bucky left to fight the war that Steve had wished hadn't stolen his brother, he finally found a man who could help him.

It was Dr. Erskine's who helped Steve realize just what he was supposed to do with his life. Before, the clues had been there, but the picture hadn't been clear. Now, he was certain. He was fated to become Captain America, a symbol of justice, perfection, and the embodiment of the American Values people expect to strive for.

He wished he looked more into this with his best friend before they got distracted by the tesseract thing that was supposedly top secret.

Steve took a fortifying breath, and a woman gave him a shot. After a moment, nothing happened that he could discern.

"Oh, that wasn't so bad." The woman gave him a look.

"That was penicillin." She said lightly. Steve grimaced, glad he wasn't allergic to said drug and wondering what the group would have done if he was. It wasn't like anyone asked. Unless they had his record from boot camp, but still. His Ma had been a nurse; there were protocols in place regarding medicine! Steve made sure his returned look attempted to convey this.

Steve was mostly naked, and it was only for modesty's sake of the audience he even had on the pair of medical shorts, he knew. As the door closed, he blinked and could feel his eyes adjusting to the darker light, suddenly remembering something that could or could not be extremely important regarding the thing in his eye.

When Steve was a child, he and his best friend had communicated through a helmet. That helmet eventually got refined into a pair of goggles, which became glasses, which were further improved to just one monocle with adjustments done to one of Steve's ear and other eye. After meeting Bucky and thus loosing his best friend, Steve used what he could to finally create the small contact which would replace the easily misplaced and or broken monocle. It took many version for him to be happy, and it was extremely difficult to do not only in secrecy but with the materials he had, but it was done.

And it worked seamlessly enough that Steve often forgot he had it.

"Question: What would happen if I had a watch or something while in here?"

"Well, any metal would either fuse into your body or be completely rejected. We know your clothes will be fine because they'll just be stretching to accommodate any difference in girth you may experience. Metal wouldn't, so it may actually destroy whatever it's around if your body doesn't absorb it." Howard Stark cheerfully replied.

"I see."

"Your medical records don't have any implants or support beams listed. Something you want to say?"

Steve considered. (Not really).

"No, just wondering.

In hindsight, he probably shouldn't have risked it. The sheer agony of his metamorphosis around his eye was terrible and the feeling of when his body finally, thankfully, accepted his additions around his other eye and his ear was so full of relief it was almost euphoric.

His body, growing and developing in as rapid of a pace as it was, had been nothing compared to the constant shock and pressure and anguishing torture around his senses.

When he first tested everything, (after the disaster that took Dr. Erskine's life even though Steve really wanted to share this with him) it was even better than he could have hoped. This was it. This was what he and he best friend had been trying to create, and she wasn't even around to appreciate it.

Bucky wasn't around to tell either.

Steve was ready for war, and he knew this was the beginning of a new history.

(History was not his strong suit.)

[[Steve had visited his family one more time before going off to war. ]]

"Oh, Stevie. Pray for protection every day, son. We'll be praying for you and Bucky from here."

"Pray for all soldiers, Mom." Steve smiled as they hugged. "War is stealing life and family from everyone."

"No matter what, we're so proud of you, my boy." Dad said with a small smile and watery eyes.

"Do you really have to go?" Becca whined. Lenise was hugging him tightly, not willing to let go.

"Afraid so. I'll mostly be on television gathering support for war bonds and such, but I'm pushing to at least go overseas to help cover Bucky's back."

"You boys be sure to come home." Mom said with a watery voice.

"Promise you will, Steve!" Lenise demanded.

"I promise, no matter how long it'll take, Bucky and I'll come home." Steve swore.

[[It was this visit he cried the first time since gaining his new body. Not because he was sad, but because getting used to his improved eye was like pushing needles through his nerves as he figured out how to save his first bit of information for a family photo. It was hard to get his ear to actually listen to the sounds around him, to focus on the sensitivity enough to record without having the volume explode his eardrums. It was so very difficult to keep his voice and body from admitting to the secret he'd kept from them since they found him so that he could be sure he would tell no one at all until the day he died.]]

[[When Steve finally took control of the plane, he thought about his mom and dad and sisters and how devastated they'd be for him to not keep his promise to come home. Bucky had fallen a few days ago, and now they would be losing both sons. He thought of Peggy, and how nice she seemed and how calm she was trying to be when they both knew he was not going to come out of this alive. He thought of his Ma, and what she would think if she ever found out what really happened to him. He thought about his best friend, and what she would do as soon as she put the facts together because there was no doubt in his mind that she would continue to learn and grow without him.]]

"I still don't know how to dance." He told Peggy.

"I'll teach you." She sighed with fond exasperation. He could hear the tears she had. "Just be there."

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

"Alright." Peggy gave a small sad laugh.

"I'm sorry." He finally couldn't hold in. "I'm so sorry, AV. I'm sorry Becca. I'm sorry Lenise."

"What?" Peggy's voice sounded quiet, unsure.

"I'm sorry Buck. I'm sorry dad. I'm sorry mom. I'm so so sorry Ma."

The rest of the recording was a screech of squealing metal and broken glass as ice and water forced itself into the plane around Steve.

[[Steve sent out, as long as he could, as much information as he could as he rambled into the recording Peggy had no doubt been making. He hoped AV would find it. He wanted her to see everything he had saved so she would know he had made a life and hadn't ever forgotten her. He made his peace about never making it home again, but he was still sorry that she would never see how far he made it for her...]]

When Steve woke up, he didn't expect the utter stillness around him. His body wasn't sore. His head didn't ache. There was nothing around him to suggest he had been hurt, and so it took him a moment to recognize he was in a hospital. The sounds around him felt off, the windows looked unusually static, and his ear kept picking up the feeling of something either being recorded or a recording being played. The feeling buzzed around him, until he finally stood up and rubbed his eye.

There was technology everywhere.

The scene outside the window wasn't necessarily a picture so much as a carefully crafted area.

There were three cameras in the corners of his room, and one recording device for sound only just under his nightstand.

Now he recalled the game he and Bucky had gone to watch which was playing on the radio as if live.

A door opened and a nurse came in. She was not a real nurse, wearing too much makeup and not even holding any pens or tools in her pocket.

Someone was trying to trick him.

Steve got out, opting to run rather than fight until he was stopped breathless from what he saw outside.

The streets were crowded and the sidewalks full of people. The buildings were tall and full of screens and pictures that moved and glowed. The cars were of sleek designs and didn't spew nearly as much smoke as what he had grown used to. The men didn't all wear suits and the women didn't all wear dresses.

There was technology everywhere.

He was surrounded now, too.

"At ease, soldier." A dark skinned man said with the voice of authority as the people around parted respectfully for him to get closer. "Look, I'm sorry for that little show back there, but we thought it best to break it to you slowly."

"Break what?" Steve demanded. He could feel his throat tighten as anxiety rose up in his chest. His fists were digging his nails into his palms. This couldn't be real. This, this was...

"You've been asleep, Cap." Steve swallowed, staring unblinkingly as he watched for any sign of lying. "For almost seventy years."

Seventy years.

He had slept through time, and had woken up in... 2010? 2013?

There was technology everywhere.

Everywhere.

He could see, if he really wanted, the waves of radio and telecommunication. He could see wifi of all speeds, and he could see the connections most devices had with other devices.

He could connect to the internet.

His fingers itched to connect to the internet; to find AV and prove that he was alive, that he was here, that he... that he...

Seventy years wasn't nearly long enough time to have passed for AV to actually exist.

But, his Ma... Becca, and Lenise... Oh gods, the Howling Commandos, and Peggy.

"You gonna be okay?"

"I... I had a date." Steve swallowed, staring around himself and trying to get through the onslaught of feelings that he was home, except his home was with the men and women he had left behind and he was still as lost as ever and this time there was no Bucky-!

When Steve got into the van with the man who introduced himself as Director Fury, Steve hid his face in his hands and cried.

The men and women around him were awkwardly silent.

When Steve rode in the van with the Director of SHIELD and the agents who came with him, Steve hunted for information.

The men and woman around him tried to say words of encouragement and offered to get him up to speed of the new times.

When Steve got out of the van with Director Fury and the agents around him, Steve was already reading everything he could find, including the very fact that SHIELD had in its possession the Tesseract, which Steve had recognized in the past as something that had already sent him through time.

When Steve was given a bed and a schedule to help him integrate into the future, he already had a plan.

He would simply need to wait for almost five more years or so.

He could do that. He had to.

Maybe it'd even be fun, being Captain America, and not Steve Rogers.

xXx

HK: I just had the thought, what would it be like if Steve waking up in the future wasn't his first bout of time travel?

May or may not continue. There was much more I wanted to tough on regarding Steve and his ability to use technology as effectively as a cyborg without actually being a cyborg. Mostly I just can't decide how Steve would give the great reveal to the rest of the Avengers. This was started before Civil War, so I don't yet know if I'll be including that.

Ta!

Posted: 07 March 2017