I stared at Eli incredulously. "You've got to be kidding me."

He shook his head. "You know it's our only option."

"Eli." I waved my hands around, trying to help him grasp the magnitude of what he was saying. "You are asking me to go back there? We literally just got away! Are you insane?"

He shook his head, his features stony. "I'm not kidding, Katie. We have allies there. My brother won't let us be harmed."

I rubbed my forehead with my uninjured hand, letting my hurt arm dangle in my lap. I couldn't help but remember the last time, less than two days ago, when we trusted Clint to keep up hidden. That hadn't gone very well. "I don't…"

His temper snapped. "Would you rather be hunted down and killed?" he barked angrily, eyes darkening. "Because that's what's going to happen if you try and stay here."

I covered my face with my hand. My head pounded, and despite the long rest I had just had, I wanted nothing more than to curl into a ball and go back to sleep. I knew Eli was right, and I knew that Clint would try to protect us, but I also knew that the other Avengers didn't really trust him anymore. There was so much at stake. "Are you sure you can't remove it yourself?" I asked softly, my voice cracking.

The younger man shook his head and handed my a couple pain relievers, which I downed dry, wincing at the bitter taste. "I'm sorry. No. I don't know how; but even if I did, there would be every chance you would lose your wing."

He moved around me, wrapping my arm up in a sling. I let him, mind buzzing. Despite my fear of being discovered and killed by James, my fear of running into my brother again was greater still. I couldn't wrap my mind around the fact that he couldn't remember me. I didn't understand why he didn't remember me, not when he remembered everything else.

A thought struck me, and I suddenly lashed out and grabbed Eli's forearm, squeezing it tightly. My nails dug into his jacket, but he didn't flinch. He raised an eyebrow. "Ow," he stated flatly.

"Eli, are there museums around here?" I asked. I probably sounded crazy, but I didn't care. I needed to know.

His eyebrows moved higher. "We're in the middle of nowhere," he reminded me.

I shook my head wildly, not caring that my hair flew everywhere. A piece landed in my mouth, and I pulled at it irritably as I tried to explain. "I know that… is there anyplace that would have an exhibit of my brother? I know there are some with WWII memorials; would my brother be in any in America."

Eli nodded slowly. "Yes," he answered. His expression cleared for a moment, then his eyebrows furrowed again. "Why?"

"Because if Captain America is there, don't you think that America's Angel might be as well?" Hope swelled within me, and I couldn't help the grin that spread across my face. "Or at least a mention of me? Steve doesn't remember me at all; wouldn't seeing it in black and white prove that I'm real? That I'm his sister?"

Eli looked dubious. "Maybe." He sat down beside me, resting his elbows on his thighs. "How would you plan on getting him to see it, though?"

I shook my head again, holding my hair away from my mouth. "First thing's first: we need to make sure I'm in the exhibit first."

He shook his head. "No. First thing we do is get that tracker out of your wing. Now come on; we've stayed here too long already." He pulled me to my feet and handed me a small stack of clothes. "You're covered in blood," he answered my confused look. "Change tops; there's a trench coat there to cover your wings. We can't fly, so once we reach civilization again, you should cover up."

Eli left the cabin to check on something, and I changed hurriedly before following him outside, shoving my bloody clothes into a knapsack I had found in the bathroom cupboard. It was almost dark out; everything was purple-grey with shadows. The birds and other creatures of the day were singing their final songs. Meanwhile, the owls and other creatures of the night were waking up and beginning to call out to one another. Bats swooped through the air above the treeline, their dark shapes just barely visible against the smoky-plum sky.

I pulled the door shut behind me and walked around the small Eli was on the other side of the house, pulling a tarp off a Jeep and pushing the top down, securing it to the cab. I moved around to the side and placed my hand on the handle of the driver's side door.

The car was quite new, I noted, and I whistled appreciatively, catching his attention. "Nice model. I remember when it first came out. Can I drive?"

Eli shook his head and shoved the tarp in the cab. "Not a chance."

"I'm almost fifty years older than you," I shot back.

He pushed me gently away from the door. "Not a very compelling argument, Granny. Get in."

I rolled my eyes but complied, and soon we were rolling along through the forest. The trees were spread thin here, so it was hardly any problem making it through. Eli turned the brights on, lighting our way. The top was down, and the cool air blew through my hair, freezing my ears. Eli had the heater on, though, and he reached behind his seat and pulled a blanket from the floorboards. I wrapped it around me, wincing as we hit a pothole, jarring the broken bones in my wing.

"Jeep's come a long way," I observed, glancing down at the dark paint job and trying to think of anything besides the many aches and pains screaming for my attention.

Eli nodded. "I remember the 80's models, but I prefer the '79 CJ-5 RENEGADE." We rolled out of the woods onto a beat-down dirt road and picked up speed, kicking up a cloud of dust behind us. Darkness had completely fallen by now, but Eli dimmed the headlights down to nothing, letting the natural light guide us instead. Despite the trees that loomed alongside the path, some moon- and starlight made it through the eaves, illuminating our way.

I nodded. This one had a similar body, but was an obviously newer model. "I prefer the '42 WILLIS MB," I commented lightly. "Wonderful workmanship." Eli chuckled, and I turned to face him, careful to mind my injuries. "What's so funny?"

He shook his head, a smirk still playing on his lips. "Nothing's funny, it's just…" he glanced at me, and then back at the road. "You don't look that old," he finished.

I raised an eyebrow. "Thanks. You neither."

He glanced at me, smirking. "Hey, I'm not that old," he retorted, a playfully affronted look on his face.

I laughed softly. "Sure, Gramps."

He shook his head, the laughter leaving his eyes. "I feel old," he said, his voice so soft that I almost missed it. "I shouldn't be stuck in this body, I… I should be married, with kids, and…" He hit the steering wheel suddenly and then grasped it tightly with both hands. The moonlight slanting through his hair made it glow white, and it revealed the fine lines in his face, making him appear his age for the slightest of moments.

I sighed, letting my breath out through my nose. "I know how you feel," I murmured. I ran my free hand through my hair, trying to untangle it, but gave up after the third knot. "I'm almost ninety years old. I don't…" I rested my head against the headrest as a tear ran down my cheek. I hastily wiped it away. "I'm out of place," I continued. "I don't belong in this time anymore than Steve or James do. We're abnormalities. We shouldn't be here. We should have lived and died a long time ago, but now we're going to live until the twenty-second century."

He looked over at me, pain clouding his eyes. "I'm sorry," he told me.

I shook my head stiffly. "It's not your fault."

"Yeah, I know, but… I'm still sorry that this happened to you. That it happened to me. At least we can age again," he muttered, relief flickering across his featured.

I nodded. There was that. We rode in silence for a long while with nothing but the purr of the engine and the sound of the wind to keep us company. We finally made it out of the forest. After another ten miles or so of silence, we reached an actual road, and we drove faster, speeding along the interstate.

"I'm going to kill them one day," I whispered.

Eli twitched, jerking his head a bit towards me. "What?"

"H.Y.D.R.A. I'm going to find them one day. All of them: everyone who did this to me, to you. And I'm going to kill them."

"Katie, it…" Eli swallowed. "It wasn't H.Y.D.R.A. that did this to me. Or to you. It was S.H.I.E.L.D."

"No. Maybe it was, for you. But it was H.Y.D.R.A. who did this to me, Eli."

He stayed silent for a few minutes, undoubtedly processing my sudden desire to go out and murder a bunch of people. The anger within me was so strong… I could feel my body heating up.

"I heard something," he said slowly. "I heard something when I was away. I wasn't just hiding from S.H.I.E.L.D.; I was looking for information about them. And I found something."

"What did you find?" I asked, frowning. I pulled my knees to my chest.

"I think… I think that H.Y.D.R.A. and S.H.I.E.L.D. may be the same thing."

I twisted around to stare at him, sure that I had misheard him. My ears were ringing. "What?"

"You heard me."

I sat back, shock rushing through my veins, muddling my thoughts. How could they be the same? I voiced my thoughts, and Eli shook his head. "It's not that simple, though."

"Then explain." My tongue felt like wood. I didn't understand. Not because S.H.I.E.L.D. was so good, but rather because Steve was working with them. Surely seventy years in ice wouldn't mess up his head too much, right? Well…

"It's more like… you know what a tree is, right?"

I lifted my eyebrows. "Like, a tree? A wooden, growing tree?"

He shook his head slightly. "Yeah."

I rolled my eyes. "Of course I know what a tree is, I'm not two." Actually, a two-year-old probably would know what a tree was.

"Anyway, you know how sometimes beetles and things get inside the tree and start to kill it? You can watch it die; it happens a lot in pine trees especially, when they turn brown and whither up. But just because it's filled with beetles and dying doesn't make it any less a tree than it was before."

I nodded. "What's your point?"

"I think SHIELD is like that. It's been eaten away and infested with HYDRA agents, and if you watch, you can see it fading away. But at the same time, it's still S.H.I.E.L.D. There are still agents and other people who genuinely want to do what's right. But at the same time, there are other people who just want to watch the world burn. Do you understand?"

I nodded slowly, thinking. "Do other people know?"

"I think some do. Nick Fury, for one. I think he's beginning to suspect, but I can't be sure."

I thought back to everything I knew about S.H.I.E.L.D., everything I had learned from when I was young to now. "What about the other council members? Do they suspect anything?"

He shook his head, looking very irritable. "I don't know. They tried to nuke Manhattan, if you'd forgotten."

"I haven't."

"They're not exactly perfect," he said softly. "And we're all human." He glanced at me. "Mostly. We all make mistakes."

"Some are worse than others," I growled.

He turned his head and stared at me. "You are the one who just announced that you wanted to hunt down everyone in H.Y.D.R.A. and S.H.I.E.L.D. and kill them. You are the last person who needs to be judging other people's actions right now."

I scowled. I didn't want to kill anyone. Not really. But those people need to pay for what they've done. I noticed suddenly that Eli had added S.H.I.E.L.D. to the list of people he assumed I wanted to kill. I didn't know how I felt right then. Angry for sure, but also sad and tired. I had lost so much because of H.Y.D.R.A. and S.H.I.E.L.D. both. Both were corrupted, and while one seemed worse than the other, neither really was good. S.H.I.E.L.D. was just the lesser of two evils.

We continued driving in silence. I leaned back and stared up at the stars, resting my body even though my mind was wide-awake.

"Where do you think the Avengers fall?" Eli asked after nearly five miles of silence.

I shrugged. "It depends. I mean, they want to kill me, so that's not good, but I don't think they're evil like H.Y.D.R.A. is. Some of them, like your brother, are good. Some are neutral. I think that Stark is one of those. He had reason to hate H.Y.D.R.A. and, to an extent, S.H.I.E.L.D., but he at least chooses to try and be good. Steve… he trusts S.H.I.E.L.D. because Peggy helped found it, I'm sure of that. Thor, I think, will do whatever it takes to protect Earth, whether it means working with or against S.H.I.E.L.D."

Eli shifted, moving to steer with only one hand. With his free hand, he picked up a water bottle and took a drink. He wiped his mouth on his sleeve. "What about Banner and Romanoff?"

I sniffed at the mention of the female agent but focused on Banner first. "Banner is good, I am sure of it. That's why we're going to him for help, right?" He nodded. "Romanoff… she sees in black and white. Either you're good or you're not. She's seen footage of me murdering people, but she doesn't consider the possibility that I was not myself—which I wasn't. She assumes I am evil without really knowing me."

"Aren't you assuming the same thing about her?" he asked. "I mean, you don't really know her."

"I don't need to."

He sighed. "She's my brother's best friend."

I scoffed, crossing my arms. "Your brother doesn't have good judgment, then."

"Katie." His tone was warning, and I rolled over to stare out my window. "She has a bad past too, you know. The difference is that she was conscious for her 'training.'" I heard the disgust and anger in his voice and could help but roll over to look at him. "She was awake when they tortured her; when they changed her. She didn't have a choice to kill someone or not."

"Neither did I," I snapped, digging my fingernails into the palm of my hand.

Eli shook his head. "You didn't know what you were doing; you were being controlled, brainwashed. Natasha knew what she was doing, but life was on the line."

I looked away, glaring down at my hands. "You can trade your life for another. Murder isn't always the answer."

"It's hard to make that decision when you know that disobeying can get you tortured," he snapped. "Besides, I thought you wanted to kill everyone in H.Y.D.R.A. and S.H.I.E.L.D."

I let out a tired, exasperated growl. "Not everyone. Just the ones trying to hurt people."

"Make up your mind, Katie."

I sighed and closed my eyes, rolling onto my mostly uninjured side. "I'm going to sleep," I muttered.

"'Night," he replied.

"'Night." I closed my eyes, troubled, and within minutes fell asleep to the constant drone of the car engine.

My dreams began very soon after I fell asleep. The first few were a strange blend of memories from when I was a prisoner. I saw the faces of my captors over the decades. I watched them age, watched them be replaced by other, newer, crueler ones. These dreams were confusing and blurry, and very soon, a memory surfaced.

Steve and I were sitting on the wooden steps outside a large tent. Steve had just had one of his 'Captain America' performances, which had gone quite terribly. He was staring dejectedly down at a notepad in his hands, sketching a picture.

I rested my head on his shoulder. I still hadn't gotten used to how much he had grown. My whole life, Steve had only been a little bit taller, if that, and had never been able to protect me. Now, however, he was huge. He had grown a foot and had gained a ton of muscle. He still was the same bumbling, kind-hearted, loyal Steve, though. He still loved me.

I looked down at his drawing and felt my heart squeeze painfully. The sketch was of a shield-bearing monkey in a stars-and-stripes uniform. It was riding on a unicycle on top of a tightrope. I sighed. I knew Steve felt useless and horrible right then. All he wanted to do was to help people, and he was stuck dancing around on stage like a monkey.

"I'm sorry," I whispered, sitting up to look at him.

He shook his head, blue-grey eyes staring blankly out into the rain. "Nah. Don't be. At least I'm here, right?" he gave me a forced smile. I rubbed his arm and rested my head against his shoulder again. After a moment of silence, he spoke. "I'm glad you're here, Katie."

I was amazed that I was here. Apparently, since I was underage and an orphan, I was not allowed to be left alone by myself. Also, Steve refused to do the 'Captain America' bit if I wasn't there with him. "Me too."

And I was. I didn't miss home, not really. I never really had friends back in Brooklyn, only Bucky, and he was over here somewhere. My spirits lifted at the thought of seeing him again, and I couldn't stop the smile that spread across my face. It was impossible to miss, and Steve saw it before I could hide it. A grin appeared on his face as well. "What?"

I shook my head, giggling. "Nothing."

Steve poked my side. "C'mon, Kate. What is it?"

I laughed, pushing his hand away. "No, stop!"

He started tickling me, and I let out a shriek of laughter, squirming away. "Tell me!"

"Hello, Steve. Katie."

My brother and I froze, grinning, and looked up to see Peggy Carter standing before us. My brother stared at her as if she was an angel, instantly star-struck.

"Hi," he breathed. I smiled and gave a little wave, somewhat irked that she had interrupted my time with my brother.

"Hi," she nodded at both of us.

Steve blinked. "What are you doing here?"

"Officially, I'm not here at all," she admitted, moving to sit on his other side. She perched on a metal cabinet and stared out into the rain. "That was quite a performance."

Steve chuckled dryly. "Yeah." He rubbed the back of his neck. "I had to improvise a little bit. The crowds I'm used to are usually more… twelve," he admitted. I snorted with laughter, and he smiled brightly at me.

"I understand you're 'America's New Hope'," Peggy said softly.

Steve nodded. His melancholy mood had returned, aided by the dreary, wet weather. "Bond sales take a 10% bump in every state I visit."

Peggy rolled her eyes. "Is that Senator Brandt I hear?"

Steve scoffed slightly. "At least he's got me doing this; Phillips would have had me stuck in a lab."

Peggy raised her eyebrows. "And these are your only two options? A lab rat or a dancing monkey?" She gestured to his sketchbook, which he closed. "You were meant for more than this, you know."

Steve started to say something, but hesitated. Peggy frowned. "What?"

A sad smiled appeared on my brother's face. "You know, for the longest time, I dreamed about coming overseas and being on the front lines, serving my country. I finally got everything I wanted… and I'm wearing tights." I laughed again, softly this time, and Steve gave my shoulder a squeeze. I stared out at an army truck that had just pulled up. Injured and shell-shocked soldiers were being pulled out on stretchers. A twinge of fear coursed through me, but I did my best to squash it. What if Bucky was somewhere injured? What if he was—I swallowed and shook my head. No. James was fine; his battalion just wasn't here. I remembered what it was, too. The 107th.

"They look like they've been through hell," I observed.

Steve frowned down at me. "Language," he hissed.

Peggy, who hadn't heard him, answered me. "These men more than most. Schmidt sent out a force to Rosano. Two hundred men went up against him, and less than 50 returned. Your audience contained what was left of the 107th. The rest were killed or captured."

My blood turned to ice, and my ears began to ring. I could hear my heart pounding away in my ears, and my hands began to shake. Instantly, every possible scenario, any kind of hurt or torture or death that could be experienced was running through my mind. Not James. Not James. Please, not James.

"The 107th?" Steve voiced what I was thinking.

Peggy noticed the panic on his face, noticed how both our faces had completely drained of color. "What?"

Steve grabbed my arm and hauled me to my feet. My legs didn't seem to want to work, and so he supported me as best he could. He began had pulling, half carrying me towards the commanding officers' tent. "Come on."

My eyes snapped open. The sun was just poking above the horizon on my left, and the sky was aflame with pinks and light blues and golds. I was drenched in sweat and shaking like a leaf. The horror, the uncertainty, the fear; all of the emotions I had experienced then were tearing me apart. Eli was still driving, eyes locked on the horizon, and I curled back up as a tear fell from my eye. "Not James," I whispered, thinking about Bucky and wondering where he was, hoping against hope he would remember me. "Please, not him."