A/N: Long time, no post! Hi everyone!
First of all, I'm unbelievably touched at all the interest and love you guys have been sending. Truly, thank you.

Secondly, I'd like to apologize for the long wait. I promised you all irregular updates but even I'm shocked at how swept up and busy I've been this Holiday season. Either way, I'm back now so although I still won't promise any regular updates, I can promise to try not leave such a gap this time. I appreciate your patience and understanding :)

Now to the story!

Warning: Mild Swearing!


Chapter Four: Reflections And Doubts

Harry emerged from the shower amongst a billow of steam. He'd set the water to as hot as he could bare in an effort to rid himself of the dirt crusted along his skin. (Stubbornly, he'd paid no attention when at first the water came off him in a coppery red wash).

When he finally caught sight of himself in the slightly fogged mirror, Harry came to a stop. He'd spent hours examining his new appearance after Dumbledore's death and his disguises subsequent failure. Still, it had been so long since he'd re-donned his Harry Potter disguise, he almost didn't recognise himself in the reflective surface.

He stared at his eyes, specifically their colour. What was once a shocking Avada Kedavra green, was now a bright blue, with only the barest slivers of green. It was almost painful to look into his own eyes and not be reminded of his mother, or rather Lily Potter. Harry silently sighed.

He'd had little time to come to terms with his true parentage, too focused on the war. And even then, they'd needed Harry to keep up with his potions, - their alternative to the complex glamour spell Dumbledore cast each year. Like it or not, his face, or rather Harry Potter's face, became a symbol of hope against Voldemort and his lackeys. To suddenly have someone who looked nothing like Harry Potter claiming to be him? Not a good way to round up the troops. By the time he'd found out the truth, he had a far more personal stake in the war with Voldemort than simple retribution for the Potter's deaths. And there was so much more at stake.

So, he'd compartmentalised. Put away the trauma of this new discovery and for the most part, tried to pretend it didn't happen. The fact he still looked the same, and the distraction of the ongoing conflict, helped him to that end.

But now…

Staring at his true face, Harry could no longer pretend to be unaffected. Not when his real father, alive and whole, was a short walk away.

A knock on the outside of the small bathroom's door had Harry spinning around. His hand instinctively went for his wand, snatching it from the bathroom sink with the reflexes of a natural born seeker. Or was that the natural reflexes of hereditary super soldier serum?

With a frustrated sigh directed at himself, Harry adjusted the towel around his waist before sliding the door open.

Only to come face to face with a rather plain looking man he didn't recognise. The man had thinning brown hair, brown eyes and a bland, polite smile on his face. He seemed unaffected by Harry's state of undress. Despite his mild expression, Harry could see a carefully hidden, deeply troubling, case of what Ron uniquely, and so endearingly, once called the triple F's. Fanatic Fanboy Fever.

Arching his brow, Harry gave the man an expectant look.

"Agent Romanoff sent me." The man explained with another polite smile. He stepped backwards to show Harry the clean clothes that lay folded and waiting for him on the bed. "We scrounged up something for you to wear." Again, he spoke in that bland tone of his.

"Right. Thanks." Harry said with a single nod in the man's direction.

A beat past with no movement from the two men.

"Was there something…?" Harry trailed off meaningfully.

"Ah no." The other man shuffled backwards awkwardly. "Actually, yes." The man recorrected himself. "Agent Romanoff sends her apologies but unfortunately an assignment has come up. She asked that I escort you to the mess hall." The man explained, regaining his calm manor as he went. "I'll be waiting outside, once you're finished getting dressed." The man finished blandly. On his face that same mild, polite smile.

Harry couldn't stop his lips from twisting up into a small amused grin as the other man quickly turned around and marched from his room.

It wasn't until he was dressed and following the amusing man down the hallway, that Harry realised he hadn't asked the other man's name.

"Coulson, Phillip Coulson. My friends call me Phil." The man rambled slightly when Harry asked.

"Nice to meet you Phil. My friends call me Harry." Harry told the man with a bright grin. He offered the other man his hand. They shook sideways as they continued walking.

Steve Rogers was not happy.

Which was ridiculous. Today of all days, the day he'd met his grown son, should have been a joyous occasion. But it wasn't. And all because of Nick Fury of SHIELD.

The director was deaf to any and all complaints Steve sent his way. It didn't matter that he was James', or rather Harry's, father. The Director didn't care whether Steve had something to say about his son becoming an Avenger or not.

"He's still a kid!" Steve stubbornly argued. It wasn't his first time saying so.

"Captain Rogers," Fury snapped, rounding on him. The dark skinned man looked annoyed, the skin under his good eye twitching angrily. "I will remind you that your son is a goddamn adult. And, if half the stories I've heard are true, he's more than capable of taking care of himself." Fury snapped.

"He's seventeen!" Steve snapped right back.

"Which in his world makes him a legal adult!" Fury's quick response had Steve's face countering in confusion.

"In his world?" Steve repeated.

Fury rolled his good eye before returning it to glare at Steve. "With all due respect, Captain, I've had just about as much sci-fi family bullshit as I can stand for one week." Fury snapped before turning back to the tablet he was attempting to read off of. Before Steve could say anything else, Fury turned around and began to walk off. "Go talk to your kid, Rogers." Fury threw over his shoulder as a parting comment.

Steve stared blankly after the man for several seconds before turning and letting out a huge sigh.

Talk to his son. Right.

That was something he should definitely do. Steve turned on his heel and began striding from the gallery. As he walked his thoughts turned over what he would say to his son. Steve almost felt he hadn't even really met the young man yet. Not really. So far he'd seen the soldier.

The soldier his little boy had become. Something Steve had never wanted for his kid.

Never the less, Steve wanted to know more than the soldier. He wanted to know the man his son had become.

Steve found his trek leading him past various closed doors until he had to stop and re-orientate himself. After a quick sigh, Steve decided to head toward the mess hall. He would never find Harry in the maze that was the personnel bunks. But Harry had said he wanted to shower and then eat.

It took him a couple of wrong turns to find his way. Once he'd arrived, Steve's eyes quickly found Harry. Steve took a moment to drink in the sight of his son, face twisted into a grin as he let out quiet snorts of laughter. The noise was carried to him by his serum-enhanced hearing, and was the sweetest sound Steve had heard since waking up in the ice. Quite by accident, Steve found himself grinning too.

Deciding to grab a tray and join them, Steve moved to the self-serve dishes set up. One benefit, Steve thought, of this new world he found himself in, was the improved food. No rationing. And none of that packaged, unidentifiable, sludge issued to them. No, sir. Before him was a veritable feast of foods. He wasn't shy in loading up his plate with a selection of near everything.

Steve moved seamlessly through the room. He expertly ignored the stares of the SHIELD agents who recognised him, with only the smallest blush tinting his ears. Steve was grateful to finally slide into the seat opposite Harry's. And beside a person he recognised as Agent Coulson, the fan with the authentic trading cards.

"I hope you don't mind if I sit with you?" Steve asked with a small smile in greeting. He turned to his food and began eating without waiting for a response.

"Not at all, Captain." Coulson answered promptly.

They fell into a somewhat awkward silence.

Just as Steve's panicked mind began spinning on a way to break the, somehow ominous feeling, silence, Harry spoke instead.

"So, fancy meeting you here," Harry drawled.

"Not really." Steve denied with a shoulder shrug. "My metabolism was increased thanks to the serum. Now I have to eat, well, a lot."

"Oh, I know. Thanks for that, by the way." Harry agreed waving his hand casually. As if he hadn't just confused Steve and left Coulson staring at him with a blank expression.

"You know?" Coulson questioned in confusion.

"Yes. I inherited my father's metabolism, apparently." Harry rolled his eyes.

"Really?" Steve asked with his eyes drawn up. Concern and pride warred in him. Concern that Harry was showing any signs of the serum at all. And immense pride that his son had inherited anything of his.

"How much of the serum did you inherit?" Coulson asked at the same time. Harry stared blankly at them both for a moment. He brought his hand up to run through his hair, mussing it in what was clearly a nervous gesture.

"I don't know." Harry admitted with a shrug. "I've not really had the time to think about it."

And if Steve didn't recognise what that face meant. He'd seen it on his own often enough, after all.

Harry was lying.

Steve surprised himself when the urge to call Harry out on it never came. In all honesty, Steve thought it probably wasn't a bad thing SHIELD didn't know the extent of any inherited serum enhancements in Harry.

"I'm sure we can set up some tests to see." Coulson offered. "SHIELD has the best scientists in the world on payroll."

An image of Harry sitting amongst a group of scientist being poked and prodded like some kind of experiment, flashed through Steve's mind. He couldn't stop the cold trickle of horror that ran along his spine.

"Maybe. If there's any time." Harry agreed noncommittally, with that same expression as before on his face. Steve relaxed just slightly in his seat. "From what I can tell, SHIELD has enough on its plate this week." Harry commented lightly.

"Yes." Coulson agreed with a sigh. "Speaking of which, I should probably get back to work." He decided as he stood to his feet.

Steve was disappointed to see Harry rise also.

"You're leaving?" Steve asked. He made a point of keeping his tone steady and nonchalant.

"Yeah." Harry nodded, flashing Steve a somewhat uneasy smile. "Phil said I could tag along while he does his rounds. Explore the place a bit. I've never even been on an aeroplane, you know?" Harry added, his smile becoming more relaxed as he spoke.

Steve couldn't stop his own lips from twitching up into his own smile.

"Captain." Coulson nodded his own farewell.

"Agent Coulson." Steve returned the gesture in kind with his own nod.

"I'll see you around, yeah?" Harry called over his shoulder as he followed after a retreating Coulson.

"See you around." Steve agreed softly, knowing Harry was too far to hear.

Looking down at his food, Steve let out a sigh.

He'd wanted to talk to Harry and get to know the kid more. But maybe it was better they took things slow for now. It wasn't as if they didn't have bigger concerns.

At the reminder, Steve stood to his feet. He decided to pay Doctor Banner and Stark a visit to see what the two had discovered so far. As he walked his thoughts stubbornly returned to his son. He couldn't help but wonder just how much super-soldier serum Harry had inherited. He wondered what other traits Harry might have inherited from him and what he might have gotten from Peggy.

With most of his physical features coming from Steve, it was almost fitting that the boy should have a British accent like Peggy.

Steve forcibly pulled himself out of his thoughts as he entered Banner and Stark's lab.

Just in time to witness Stark poking the Doctor in the side with some kind of electric prod device.

"Are you nuts?!" Steve demanded, as he stepped forward. Stark turned from where he'd been staring deeply into Banner's eyes. He clearly knew what angering Banner could do. How many people it could put at risk. What was he doing?!

"Jury's out." Stark directed toward his, only briefly flickering his eyes toward Steve before turning back to Banner. "You really do have a lid on it, don't you? What's your secret? Mellow jazz? Bongo drums? Huge bag of weed?" Stark rambled as Banner let out an uncomfortable chuckle.

"Is everything a joke to you?" Steve asked scathingly. He couldn't believe this reckless man before him was Howard Stark's son… Well, actually, Howard had been reckless. But he'd also known when to be serious. Something his son clearly failed to learn.

"Funny things are." Stark replied, pointing his prod at him.

"Threatening the safety of everyone on this ship isn't funny." Steve told him firmly. The last thing they needed was Banner's alter ego coming out to play. Plus, Harry was on this ship and there was no way Steve was about to let his son's life be put in danger because of one man's immaturity, even if that man was Tony Stark. "No offence, Doctor." Steve added as an afterthought.

"I-it's alright." Banner stumbled to say. "I wouldn't have come aboard if I couldn't handle pointy things." He added with a glance to the device Tony still held in his hands. Steve actually found himself liking the Banner's quiet manner and wry sense of humour.

"You're tiptoeing big man, you need to strut!" Stark disagreed with a mock disappointed look.

"Any you need to focus on the problem, Mr Stark." Steve corrected, feeling himself losing patience with the other man.

"You think I'm not?" Stark asked, looking surprised and mockingly offended. "Why did Fury call us in? Why now? Why not before?" Stark questioned as he began walking back toward Banner. "What isn't he telling us? And what exactly does Cap-Junior have to do with all this?"

"Excuse me?" Steve demanded, his voice turned icy. What exactly was Stark trying to say?

"Come on," Stark began with a roll of his eyes. Beside him, Banner let out a nervous chuckle, the doctor's eyes flickered from Steve to Stark and back to the machine he was fiddling with. "You can't really think the kid turning up right when everything's about to hit the fan, is some kind of coincidence?" Stark continued regardless.

"What exactly are you implying?" Steve demanded as he took a step forward.

Stark held up his hands innocently. "Right now? Nothing. But I can't do the equation without all the variables."

Banner cleared his throat. "I'm sure Mr Stark's not trying to accuse your son of anything, right Stark?" Banner asked as he looked to the man in question. Steve turned to fix his own accusing glare on Stark.

"Oh come on," Stark complained with another eye roll. "It's bugging you too, isn't it?" The last comment he directed toward Banner.

"Um, I just want to do my work and then-," Banner stumbled over his words, clearly uncomfortable with the line of questioning.

"Doctor?" Steve interrupted. It was Stark that answered him, however, as Banner returned to looking at his work.

"Disregarding the sudden return of the prodigal son, you can't tell me you trust Fury?" Stark demanded of Steve. "Captain, he's a spy. He's the spy. His secrets have secrets." Stark spun to look at Banner. "Banner, come on, back me up here."

With a sigh, Banner straightened up and removed his glasses. "A warm light for all of mankind, Loki's jab at Fury about the cube." Banner quoted. Steve remembered the Asgardian saying so, although he didn't understand the significance or why Banner was bringing it up now.

"I heard it." Steve confirmed.

"Well, I think that was meant for you." Banner said, pointing to not Steve but Stark. "Even if Barton didn't tell Loki about the tower, it was still all over the news."

"The Stark Tower?" Steve asked. "That big ugly-", Steve paused at the unimpressed look Stark was giving him before continuing, "- building in New York?" Steve asked. He'd forgotten that the owner of said building was standing in the room with him.

"It's powered by an arc reactor, self-sustaining energy source." Banner explained. "That building will run itself for, what? A year?" He guessed, looking to Stark.

"That's just the prototype." Stark agreed. And although Steve didn't understand everything they were saying, he understood enough to be impressed. A building that could run itself for a whole year? The future really was a marvel. "I'm kind of the only name in clean energy right now. That's what he's getting at." Stark continued to explain.

"So, why didn't SHIELD bring him in on the Tesseract project? What are they doing in the energy business, in the first place?" Banner asked with a shrug.

"I should probably look into that when my encryption program finishes breaking into all of SHIELDS files." Stark announced as he moved around the room again.

"I'm sorry, did you say-?" Steve began to demand.

"JARVIS has been running it since I hit the bridge. In a few hours I'll know every dirty secret SHIELD's ever tried to hide." Stark shrugged and offered a faint grin. As if he wasn't in the middle of gross insubordination, and likely treason.

"Yet, you're confused why they didn't want you around." Steve snipped even as he had his own reservations. What exactly was SHIELD up to?

"An intelligence agency that fears intelligence? Historically, not awesome." Stark retorted back.

"I think Loki's trying to wind us up. This is a man who means to start a war, and if we don't stay focused, he'll succeed." Steve informed them. "We have our orders." Steve added firmly even as his mind circled with possibilities and questions. Still, there was never reason to allow discord amongst the troops.

"Steve, tell me none of this smells fishy to you." Banner pressed even as Stark let out a scoff and turned away from Steve.

"Just focus on finding the cube." Steve told them both as he turned and marched from the room. He'd put his trust in SHIELD since waking up from the ice. Mostly due to lack of any other choice. But now, Steve needed to know exactly who he was working for. He needed to know who to trust.

Especially with his son now suddenly in the midst of it all.

Steve headed determinedly toward the cargo hold. It was time to get some answers.


A/N: Loved it? Hated it? Let me know what you thought in a review! Till next time!