33 reviews and I'm only on chapter two! How did that happen? Not that I'm complaining, I love you guys, your support is making update asap! Sorry, I was helping with a short film for the British Heart Foundation today so I didn't update sooner!
Remember, Aunt May's death was on a Saturday, Peter moved into the home on the Sunday.
Enjoy J
Captain America stayed in the little town where Peggy had lived out the rest of her days. He found her tomb stone and mourned before heading back for one final night at the B&B. He wanted to go on a road trip tomorrow, just tour America, go back to places he had once visited in his time and see the changes, maybe find old friends, if any still lived.
The next morning, Steve paid for his room and the service with a generous tip. Fury had been kind enough to reopen an old bank account of his that had been gathering dust and interest for his whole time in the ice. It was a rather hefty sum, still nowhere near the billions that Stark owned but enough for a comfortable life for a decent part of his life in this modern age.
Steve and his Harley Davidson were on the road once more. He was driving before ten am and out of town before half past. Although there were traffic laws to abide to, once Steve found a long dirt road he went as fast as the old girl could take him and let the wind rustle his leather jacket, freeze his gloveless fingers and destroy his perfect hair. It was wonderful. His mind became clear and he became free of his worries. There was no modern technology, no modern dressed people and nothing that told him that he was out of his time. Fantastic. He had been driving for over an hour when he came to a larger town then the one he had previously been in. If there was one time he had used SHEILD resources for, it was to find out where his old friends lived. He found a man he had severed with called Timothy 'Dum Dum' Dugan. He knocked on the door, half praying the information was right, half hoping it was wrong. Steve waited for half a minute before he heard shuffling. Then, the door swung open and there stood a grumpy, grey, wrinkled old man.
The man looked up about to speak, by the look on his face, Cap half expected him to complain about disturbing him. Then the man gasped, like he had seen a ghost.
"Been a while Dum Dum." Steve greeted with a smirk. Timothy looked like he might have a heart attack. Given his age, Steve was scared he might.
"C – Cap?" Tim stuttered. Steve nodded and then, within seconds he was engulfed in a hug. Steve felt the man's shoulders shake and knew he was crying. This guy was not one for a sob fest but it seemed like he needed it.
Finally Tim pulled away.
"No one's called me that in years!" Tim announced randomly. Steve grinned and Tim smiled back. He then gestured for Steve to come in. He lead the way to the living room before muttering for Steve to make himself comfortable.
Steve looked around. By the seat Tim sat on were whiskey bottles (most empty), a few beer cans and one empty bottle of white wine.
"Still drinking then?" Cap questioned raising one eye.
"I went to Ireland after the war, found some new drinking partners, nothing like the wimps we have at home. For once, someone, other than you, could drink me under the table! It was a great challenge." Tim proclaimed proudly. Steve rolled his eyes before putting on a nostalgic smile.
"It's good to see you again, old friend." Steve said.
"I we talking age old or time old?" Tim questioned before muttering, "If it's about my age then you're just showing off you poncy prick!"
Steve's super hearing picked up the quiet muttering.
"Please don't tell me you're one of those old crones who waves their fist at young people shouting dumb things like get off my lawn." Steve almost begged.
"Youths are too radical these days, always drinking, thinking they're better then everyone!" Tim defended. Steve burst out laughing.
"Oh come on Tim, you did that! You were probably worse! You cannot complain about youths drinking, you were sharing stories of a drunk childhood around the pub table after drinking five pints. Five pints was when you turned honest!" Steve laughed.
Tim wanted to protest but then saw that any argument he made was invalid. Finally conversation changed and they nattered on about the good old days.
"So, what's the old gang up to?" Steve finally asked. Tim's face fell, his eyes turned gloomy.
"I'm afraid they're all gone. Only Falsworth made it to the end of the war. He then died two years ago from lung cancer. You remember, he used to smoke like a chimney. As the years past, he didn't improve." Tim mumbled as he remembered the past. Steve's face turned to a similar gloomy expression.
"Did he live nearby?" Steve asked.
"No, no. He kept travelling until he could travel no more. Then he was buried in Washington, his last place of residence." Tim explained, he glared at the floor as if it was the reason for all his friends' deaths.
Steve then changed the conversation to Tim's life after the war, all he had done, the women he had met. Life in general. Tim became a little more optimistic as conversation drove on. They talked into the late hours of the night. Then, Tim offered Steve a room for the night and they went off to their separate beds. Steve left early the next morning. He found out where his old friend James Falsworth was buried and headed in that direction. He knew the drive would take a while, maybe a few days if he took a longer, more scenic route.
By the time he arrived, it was Wednesday. He had been on the road most of the day. It had been fun but now he saluted his friend and then sat down and told him about what had happened since he had been unfrozen. He then reminded the gravestone that he had said all that smoking would give him an early grave. He wanted something to respond but not even the birds chirped in response. He sat there in silence for who knows how long before a loud sound of music, it sounded like something Tony listened to, came blasting from his duffle bag. Steve sighed before finally getting up to stop the noise. Maybe this time he would answer the phone without breaking it or somehow hanging up before he could answer it.
He succeeded!
"Rogers." He announced formally.
"Captain, I think your road trip is over. We need you to come in."
Dun dun dun! Okay, don't worry, I'm already writing the next chapter. Before I finish, tell me what you think! I know it was a random filler chapter but I needed to add more on Cap.
Also, I do not live in America, I do not know almost any names of towns or cities. Then again I live in England and my geographical knowledge is still limited...