Chapter Three: Family Matters

The next few days spent with Steve had honestly some of the best in my life. We went to see films (I remember he loved them in the '40s despite their horrendous quality) and I had purchased as many history books as I could find to help him catch up on the past 70 years. I soon found out that documentaries were the best for him as they combined his love of film and need for historical knowledge. However, he never quite mastered the computer. Domestically, he fit in for the most part, but his "old-fashioned" manners proved to be a challenge when certain things hard for him to swallow. One of such things was his first encounter with common female clothes. Since the '40s women has covered themselves less and less. Steve wasn't good with fully dressed women and thus was downright abysmal with those that wore the ever-popular "booty shorts."

Upon Fury's orders I had made my apartment presentable for the captain to move into. Steve had made the adjustment into my apartment easily -but technically it was his Brooklyn apartment. After we decided that the super soldier was dead in 1943 I had gone to tell his family of his fate. Albeit I left out much of the details –such as Hydra and the serum –I told them that he had fought valiantly, saved many lives, including my own, and had died saving their lives. His father, Joseph had been dead so I never met him but from the pictures, Steve looked just like him but he held all the mannerisms of his mother from what an aunt of his told me. Apparently, a falling out with his brother led to him distancing himself, he barely visited and it broke his mother's –Sarah's –heart. Upon knowing that I had become good friends with her son she and I spent a lot of time together talking about Steve then talking about ourselves and we became close friends. Once she found out that I had been staying with Howard Stark (as Erskine was dead and I had no other place to live), she promptly ordered that I come to live with her. The day I met her was one of the saddest days I had ever experienced. I shall always remember it.

August 23, 1943

I hugged the borrowed leather jacket closer to me as I made my way down the busy Brooklyn streets. The sun had refused to show its face the past few days. It was as if the sun itself knew that this was not a time for joyous weather. The clouds had blanketed over the city as if to wrap mourning souls in an embrace to comfort.

I made my way into an old building and started up the stairs to my destination. After staring down multiple apartment numbers I found the match I was looking for. Glancing at the address that was scribbled neatly in the back of the late captain's notebook confirmed that I had found the right door. My hands fidgeted nervously as I waited for the door to open after giving three hearty knocks. After a few moments the door opened to reveal a petite but sturdy looking woman that looked to be in her late 40s or early 50s. Her red hair was graying gently in some places but the two tones complimented her bright blue eyes that were staring warily into my own eyes. Her high cheekbones and sharp nose made her look intimidating despite her small stature and barely-there wrinkles. She was a very pretty woman and I found myself wishing that I had seen her at a younger age when she would've no doubt been at her prime. She looked nothing like Steven.

Realizing that I had been staring as we stood there in a battle of wits, I straightened up and addressed her. "Hello, is this the Rogers' residence?" My nerves had made my unusual accent thicker than normal. Upon hearing my accent, her eyes seemed to soften a touch as she replied in her own intonation.

"Yes, who wants to know?" Her accent was thick and one that I had heard a few times and later discovered was Irish.

"My apologizes. My name is Andromeda Fyres. I was –am a friend of Steven's. I was hoping I could speak with you." Her eyes lit up at the mention of Steve's name and a smile stretched across her face showing off dimples that Steve had no doubt inherited from her.

"A friend of Steve's? Please come in. I must know how my little Steven came to know such a beautiful girl!" Her voice was light and full of excitement as she ushered me inside her reasonably small apartment.

She quickly busied herself with making tea and coffee in the small kitchen as she chattered on about how rarely she heard from Steve those days. I watched as she came alive and shed the skin of the harsh woman I met in the threshold. When she came to life like that I could easily Steve in her. The way she became so animated in that moment reminded me of Steve when we went to pubs with the squadron. They had the same blue eyes and they sparkled the same when they spoke of something they were interested in and both got that far away look when they reminisced. She was small but knew how to command a space to where she seemed much bigger than she actually was. She stood maybe 5'3", 5'4 ½" if she puffed her hair up. The noise she made evidently woke up the only other occupant of the house as a red-headed man stumbled into the living room without a shirt. She immediately tossed a dirty dish rag at him and scolded him for being so indecent in the company of a lady. I chuckled for the first time in days as he gripped about how age has made her noisier. After convincing her that I wasn't hungry and she needn't worry herself with cooking, the man walked back in, his red hair sticking up in all directions.

"That is my older son, Douglas –Steven's older brother. I do my best to domesticate him but it seems that Steven inherited all the manners," she joked. Douglas looked just like his mother except with more height and his father's hazel eyes. His square jaw was wider than Steve's as he had his mother's heart-shaped face and freckles that were dusted across his sharp cheekbones and narrow nose. His eyes were brown around the pupil but quickly feathered to an olive green with flecks of gold throughout them and his haphazard hair was curlier than his mother's. They could easily be placed as mother and son. He winked at me when he saw that I was taking in his slightly disheveled appearance. I rolled my eyes at him.

"I have manners, I just choose not to display them," he spoke playfully as he sat on the sofa across from me.

"Is that so?" I raised an eyebrow.

"Yes, because you see darling," he reached a freckled hand into the small wooden bowl of candies on the coffee table, "if you hand out something often it becomes standard it becomes expected and loses value," the bowl was mostly peppermint and coconut assortments. "But when you give something out carefully and sparingly it becomes rare and exotic and is appreciated more and is more sincere when given." He pulled out a singular chocolate candy and handed it to me. I smiled at his artful metaphor and saw how he and Steve shared their beautiful way of looking at the world. My heart clenched knowing that I was to be the one to ruin their day.

Sarah brought the tea and coffee over and took a seat next to her son and spoke. "So what have you come for, sweetheart. Steven obviously didn't send you as he's not here with you."

"Well, I would love to know how my little shrimp of a brother managed to get a beautiful dame such as yourself to like him enough to come and know his family." Sarah smacked his arm at the use of the word "dame" and I could tell it hurt by how he cringed.

"Well, I met him a while back in the training in England. He was the only one that didn't degrade me for being a woman. From there we bonded, you could say."

"What was Steven doing in England?" Sarah questioned. I raised an eyebrow and responded confused. "He was training, he joined the army… you didn't know, did you?" Sarah covered her mouth as she began to realize what this meeting could mean.

"Wait, how did that 90 pound asthmatic get accepted into the army in the first place?" Douglas demanded. I had anticipated this question and pulled out a Polaroid of Steve, myself and some of the men from the squadron at a bar and played dumb.

"Steve must have changed since you've last seen him. He's is not the 'shrimpy' boy you speak of." I handed them the picture and they stared at it quietly, taking in that things have changed for the youngest Rogers. I continued while they were quiet. "Well, there was a… complication in a mission in the Alps and he ended up having to pilot an enemy aircraft. This plane was carrying missiles of utter destruction. Those missiles would've desolated the entire eastern coast of this country. The missiles could not be redirected and he couldn't stop it. So he had to land the plane but there wasn't any land so he decided to put it in the water… I am so sorry and I wish it weren't so but Steven is…dead." I choked on my words a little as I still hadn't come to terms with it much less said it out loud. Sarah made a sort of strangled noise as she tried to choke down her sobs.

"Why would he do that? He always thought he was invincible! My little Steven…" she cried harder and buried her face in her remaining son's chest as he held her close. Douglas had yet to react and sat there wide-eyed. Finally he spoke, his voice broken.

"No, that can't be right." Sarah pulled away from him as he spoke. "No. Last time I saw him I said things I didn't mean. I meant to apologize I swear. I didn't even get to say good bye. No he can't do that. He doesn't have the right to go and be all self-sacrificial! He can't! He's my little brother! I'm the one that's supposed to go and do the protecting! Not him! He can't be! He's my brother!" Douglas had stood up and smashed our empty cups and attacked the wall before crumpling to the ground and sobbing. Sarah went to him and pulled him into her arms like a baby as they mourned together. I watched as the life vanished from both of their eyes. Their cheeky spirits evaporated at knowing that only half of their original family was left.

I had stayed with them for the rest of the day and all night. I quickly learned where everything was and made them tea, coffee, dinner, whatever they needed. I had been the one to deliver the news, I felt that I had to make sure that they would be alright. I had grown attached to their quirky Irish ways and found a bit of Steve within them and I wasn't ready to let go then. Eventually, I learned to let go when Sarah died and Douglas followed some decades later. Sarah had left the apartment to Douglas who left it to me.

I still had the apartment.

I had preserved all the furnishings but only had half of it in the apartment, the other half was in a storage unit somewhere in the Bronx. The only thing that was untouched was Steve's room from before he had moved out and before I met him. Steve liked to hear the stories of his family while he was in the ice.

A few days ago.

"…your brother thought that he was slick enough to escape your mother after she found out he sold that hideous garden gnome. I personally couldn't believe someone actually bought the outrageous thing! She couldn't catch him to hit him but that woman had great aim, tossed a vase at him and barely missed." I finished a tale about Sarah and Douglas. Steve dissolved into a fit of laughter, no doubt imagining it.

"My mother had wicked aim, Doug always said I got off easy being the glass doll of the family," Steve remarked.

"Maybe that's where your skill with a shield comes from," I joked as I picked up his plate.

"Maybe… thank you."

"You made the coffee, I figured I could at least put the dishes away." I put the dishes and returned to my seat beside him on the couch.

"No, I don't mean the dishes…" he looked at me, the sadness was plain in his blue eyes. "Thank you for taking care of them. You didn't have to, no one asked you to but you did it anyways. I know they can be crazy but they were my family. You risked exposing yourself by staying with them and can't thank you enough for it." I smiled and scooted closer to hug his large frame.

"At first I did it for you because I saw you in them but eventually I did because I wanted to. I loved them, they became my family. You don't need to thank me…" He slung an arm around my shoulders and ruffled my hair affectionately. "However you can make it up to me with massages."

During the war I had discovered that Steve gave phenomenal massages.

The day that Steve came home was an interesting day to say the least. I had made a quick work of getting Steve moved in and it made for an interesting reaction from the landlord downstairs. When I had first moved there it was 1943 and while the landlords had changed over the years they all had met their new tenants and I was a repeating face of seven decades. The current landlord was a narcissistic college student named Jackson Overland. He was known as a flirt and he lived up to that reputation. For as long as he had been my landlord he tried many times to convince me to give him a second glance and he was rather cheeky and persistent about it. When he saw Steve walk in with me laughing he was shocked into a momentary daze.

Steve and I walked into the lobby with him carrying the one bag he had. He was smiling brightly showing off his small singular dimple as he spoke.

"You haven't changed much; I think the only real difference is your hair. It was blonde –bordering on white -last time." His eyes scanned over my chemically blackened hair as he spoke.

I chuckled. "Well I discovered shortly after you left that my hair color was noted to be unusual."

"I suppose you're right. But it suited you." Steve blushed and looked away as he voiced his compliment.

"I believe that anything would look good on the beautiful Andrea," Jackson spoke up as he exited the lobby office and made his way towards us. Once he reached us he slung a lightly muscled arm around my shoulders. "Hello, sweetheart."

I rolled my eyes and shrugged his arm off me. "How many times have I told you to stop calling me that? It is not my name. And I am far from your sweetheart."

"That may be true now but one day you will be," he remarked, ignoring my first statement. Steve then came and stood closer to me making his presence known. Extending a hand to Jackson, he spoke.

"Hello, you must be Jackson. My name is Steve." Jackson eyed him, sizing him up. Taking his hand and shaking it he answered.

"Well you already know my name so there's no point in me saying it. How do you know me?"

"Andy told me about you."

"Did she now?" Jackson gave me a cheeky look and winked, a cocky smirk playing at his lips.

"She did. I figured that I should know about my landlord before I move in-" Jackson interrupted him then.

"Oh, you want an apartment? Well there are some vacancies on the third floor-"

"-with Andy."

"What?" Jackson's mouth fell slack as he deadpanned at the statement. I couldn't help but let out a laugh at his shocked expression. Once I collected myself, i spoke up.

"Steve will be living with me from now on. You always said that I needed a flat-mate and now I have one." I inclined my head at Steve then made my way to the elevator. "Come on, Steve. It's been a while since I last made dinner for anyone besides myself."

Living with Steve proved to be a great improvement to my life until the nightmares began.

Every night dreams of the war plagued me. Sometimes it was of the close calls in battle or of Steve flying into the arctic waters. In the latter of those dreams I was in the plane with him, sinking with him, drowning with him but powerless to stop it. I either dreamt of those things or I dreamt of nothing at all. Normally when I awoke in the middle of the night I was cloaked in a thin sheen of sweat with my heart pounding and gasping for air. However, that night I was woken by the nightmares of someone else.

Steve's screams rang out through the space of the apartment, no words, just an incessant wail of agony. Jolted from my own discontent slumber, I dashed to the source of the abhorrent shrieking. I found Steve in his room half-covered by the sheets and thrashing about wildly. His face was twisted in agony as he balled his fist into the mattress.

"Steve? Steve! Steven, wake up!" I rushed to his side and placed my hands on his cheeks. "Steve, wake up!" I slapped his cheeks lightly and shook him roughly. His azure eyes shot open and he stopped screaming but continued to make small panicked noises. His eyes darted around the room trying to place in his mind where he was. I placed a hand on his chest to still his movement and tilted his head to look at me. He tried to speak through his hysteria but I immediately silenced him. "It was dream, Steve. It was a nightmare. You're safe. Don't worry. You're safe. It was a dream," I whispered to him as I held his face firmly in my hands as his bright eyes searched my green ones. "You're safe." With those words I watched as the super soldier crumpled.

He leaned into me and whimpered softly. In that moment he seemed so small and helpless despite his large build. I pulled him into my arms, my back against the iron headboard as he curled into my side. His skin was like ice as if he were released from the arctic mere moments before. He trembled and his breathing was ragged. He buried his face into my neck as he wrapped an arm around my middle. Soon his whimpering subsided and gave way to soft shudders. I rubbed his shoulder soothingly and spoke.

"Do you want to talk about it?" My voice was barely above a whisper.

He let out a shaky breath before adjusting so that his head was resting on my shoulder. His usually deep voice was a raspy whisper. "I… I dreamt of the ice. I dreamt of sinking, drowning, and freezing. It's always the same… I'm in the plane as it sinks and fills with ice water. I-I feel the water rising around me. It's so cold. It hurts. It's numbing but burning and splintering all at once and I can't move. Then I'm submerged and it hurts so much! My eyes burn and I can't see anything and I'm suffocating. I can't breathe but the icy water hurts and I can't stop breathing it in and my lungs hurt. It's so cold-"

"Shhh. It's alright. You're safe now. Everything is okay. Shhh." I cut him off as his voice rose with hysteria. I pulled him closer and quieted him. After a while of sitting like this his breathing finally calmed down. "Better?" He nodded his head and I passed my hand through his hair before getting up. Just as I reached the door he spoke up in a steadier voice.

"Andromeda…" I stopped at the use of my full name, very few knew it. I locked eyes with him as he continued. "I know I don't have the right to ask you this but will you stay with me? Just for tonight…"

I closed the door and walked over to the bed. I smiled gently at him and got back into the bed as he adjusted around me back into our original position. His blonde head rested on my shoulder with his arms around my middle section. I pulled the covers up around us and we laid there quietly. After a while he fell asleep leaving me to my thoughts about the man in my arms. Eventually I fell asleep and dreamt of a home far away.

Author's Note: Hello again! Once again, thank you for reading. I was never a huge comic book fan despite my large X-Men comic collection so I had to do a bit of research. It is canon that Steve's parent's were Sarah and Joseph and were Irish immigrants and he does have a brother named Douglas -whether it is an older brother or not I don't know so I took some creative liberty with that. And now reviews!
Rainbow Magic Girl: Thank you for the review and the compliment. I try really hard to keep Marvel characters in character. Once again thank you!