Disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters besides Peggy. The rest all belong to Marvel.
A/N: Woo! New story! Not the mentioned Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. one, but one that I've had on the back burner for a while. This takes place after Avengers and will most likely not include anything from the movies following after. And this is Stony. Duh. Oh, also! I'm on Tumblr with the same user name.
Chapter 1
Steve was tired.
Technically, he knew that it took a lot to exhaust him. The serum had not only given him super strength, but also super endurance. It took, literally, an alien invasion to fatigue him. But this tired was more emotional than physical.
Steve was tired of the twenty first century.
There were some amazing things about it, like the amount of food accessible, or the amount of medical advancements, or even the new technology that had been created. Sure, Steve still didn't understand half of it, but that didn't mean he couldn't appreciate how it made life easier for some people.
That being said, even with the new advancements, the future was still kind of a disappointment to Steve. People were still cruel, which he expected, because he knew that it was basic human nature. But he had not expected the amount of good people to decrease.
It amazed him sometimes, how uncaring the world had gotten. Everywhere he walked he saw people too caught up in the glowing screen in front of them to care about the world just beyond it. He had been walking the other day down the sidewalk, just walking, because these days he really didn't have anywhere to go, and someone had bumped into him. He hadn't expected them to do much, just apologize, but the person hadn't even stopped, hadn't even looked up from the phone held in her palm.
In the nineteen forties, that would have never happened. Even if you didn't like someone, and a lot of people hadn't been overly fond of Steve back then, they would have at least paused, looked up to see who they had bumped into. And manners had been so inbred back then that Steve probably would have at least gotten a grudging apology.
There were many things that were inbred of the people in this time, but manners did not seem to be one of them.
If Steve were being honest, which he usually was, it was not just the technology that was making him tired. It was the loneliness. Steve had always been someone who needed to be surrounded by people. He was not someone who could survive on his own. Back in the forties Bucky had been his constant, his godsend. He had been the one to keep Steve from the loneliness that now seemed to overwhelm him.
The issue was, besides the fact that Steve had never been very swell at making friends, that there weren't very many people in this time that Steve could find he wanted to be friends with, never mind the other way around. Sure, he had Natasha, who with increasing frequency went on missions with him, but he couldn't tell if she was his friend and it was just that she was generally not a very open person, or if she merely tolerated him because he was an asset in the field she lived in.
And that would have been fine, but Natasha was the person he would say he was closest to in the Avengers. Bruce was nice enough, but Stark was right when he said he was tiptoeing. It was hard to be around someone who was too scared of himself to engage in any conversation longer than a couple minutes. Clint was… well, he was hard to read. Natasha trusted him, so Steve trusted him in the field, but beyond that Steve wasn't quite sure how he felt towards the man. He was friendly, but a little bit too much like Stark, though in a much quieter way. Thor was friendly, and Steve was sure that in him he would find a good friendship, but Thor was often gone, off to Mexico or dealing with problems on his own planet. Or realm. Steve had never really gotten that straight, despite the amount of times Stark had attempted to explain it in his arrogant way.
Stark was, well, Stark was everything that Steve despised. He was loud, arrogant, and constantly on the move. He didn't seem to ever consider how his actions affected the ones around him, so long as he got the result that he wanted. He was science where Steve was art. And worst of all, he was completely unpredictable. He didn't fit into any box that Steve tried to categorize him in. It would have been easy, to label him as a cold man, but there were moments when he slipped, and Steve could see kindness leaking through the cracks of his mask.
Moments like those made Steve feel odd and awkward, like the little kid from Brooklyn, and that was the worst of it. Stark ignited things, more than just fury, though there was a lot of that, in Steve, things that Steve did not want to ever feel.
So looking to the Avengers for friends was not a possibility. So Steve went to the streets, hoping to find at least one kindred spirit, one person who he could identify with. But it was as if Steve had woken up in an entirely different world, where the people spoke a different language and had entirely different customs. He didn't understand these people, who walked around with more friends on the line instead of in the real world.
The issue was, really, that Steve was looking for people his age, or at least close. But what the people his age did, wanted, was not what the people back in the forties wanted. Steve's entire life, and a lot of others, had been centered around getting in the army and defending his country. But American's these days, especially around Steve's age, were completely casual with their country loyalty. It was hard to imagine the people who called the United States "'merica" ever defending it with their lives.
Not that Steve could exactly blame them. The America they lived in was not the one he had fought for. He had fought to keep people from being slaves, but in the end they had just become slaves to a different master other than Hitler-technology.
Steve stepped into Presby Park. It was a small park, close to civilization but not as popular as Central Park. It was the perfect place for Steve to go when he was feeling lonely. There was never anyone there to keep him company, but just the serenity of the park was comforting. Steve often went there to draw or think.
He walked towards the tree he usually sat under, pulling his sketchbook out of his bag. He sat down, shifting until he was comfortable, and then started to draw. It was harder today, than usual, to get into the correct headspace of drawing, though he couldn't quite place why. Just a tickle down his spine, his instincts nudging him.
A leaf drifted down, landing almost perfectly on his sketchbook.
Steve stood up quickly, dropping his sketchbook carefully off to the side as his hands curled into fist. But no enemy jumped out at him. In fact, nearly nothing moved at all for a couple of moments before a head popped out above him.
"Hi," The girl smiled at him. She was small, with dark curly hair and dark brown eyes. There was something incredibly familiar about her smile. "I'm Peggy."
Steve was distracted from trying to place the girl by the shock of hearing her name. Whenever Peggy was mentioned it was like a blow to the gut. Steve hadn't loved her, but he knew that he could have, if he had been given the chance. And she was the perfect symbol of all that was right with his world. She had been kind and strong, and Steve had been amazed by her.
"I'm Steve," He finally said. He peered up at her, raising a hand against the glare of the sun peeking through the leaves. "Have you been up there every time I come here?"
"Maybe," The girl hedged, her smile disappearing slightly before coming back full force, unrestrainable. "It's nice to finally meet you."
"Likewise," Steve said. And then, unable to help himself, "I knew someone with your name, once."
"Really?" The girl asked, leaning closer to him. Her brown eyes sparkled slightly with compassion and Steve realized he must not have been hiding his emotions as well as he wanted to be. "You want to tell me about her?"
As Steve climbed up into the tree beside her, he felt something in him lighten. It was early on, but she just might have been the friend Steve was looking for.