Summary: What if Bucky never fell from the train? What if Steve wasn't alone when he crashed the plane? What if the two of them really did stick together to the end of the line, even if that turned out to be the twenty-first century... and what would a certain red-headed spy make of Cap's best friend?
Disclaimer: All recognisable characters, situations, and dialogue from any film or TV series in the MCU belongs to Marvel and other folks who aren't me.
Chapter 1 - 8th October 2011
He remembered being cold, in a way that he had never been before, not even in the frigid Brooklyn winters of his childhood when the heater gave out and the wind was blowing in through cracks in the windows and the gap under the door. His memory of why he had been so cold was hazy. All he knew was that he was grateful it was over, that he wasn't feeling that terrible bone-deep freeze anymore.
It occurred to him to open his eyes, and yet, the effort to do so seemed just a little too much. He had been dreaming before, at least, he thought it was a dream. Hazy as it all was, it had to have been, but it seemed pretty real when he thought about it. Either way, it was time to wake up, he was more than aware. Maybe in another five minutes.
The decision to sleep in changed in a second when he heard voices and started to worry. Something on the radio, a guy giving a play by play of a baseball game that was weirdly familiar, and then, someone else. It was his best friend's voice, starting to get an edge to it, like he was mad. That couldn't be good, not at all.
Eyes suddenly wide open, Bucky sat straight up in the bed, quickly taking in cream walls, blowing curtains, then Steve standing there, arms folded across his chest as he faced off with a pretty girl in uniform. Something was wrong, instinct told him that, if nothing else, that and the unfriendly tone hardly ever heard in the voice of Steve Rogers, nicest guy on the planet.
"What's going on?" Bucky asked, getting to his feet, wondering at the clothes he saw on his body, looking very much the same as those Steve wore. "Where are we?"
"I was trying to explain to the Captain-" the girl started to say.
"No," Steve cut in. "You were trying to lie to me. Now, tell me the truth. Answer his question, where are we?"
She floundered a moment, then pulled out a comms device, calling for all agents and something about a code thirteen.
Bucky looked to Steve, their eyes met, and the plan was made without a word spoken. They went crashing through the wall without hesitation, Bucky following Steve, just as he always vowed he would.
"This isn't New York," said Bucky, amazed by the sight that met his eyes as they burst out onto the street.
"Doesn't matter," Steve assured him. "You with me?"
"To the end of the line," he replied without hesitation, bolting after Steve into the unknown.
He would have trusted his best friend with his life long before he was Captain America. Whatever happened, that was never changing. They always had each other's backs. Besides, hadn't they completed a hundred successful missions together in the past couple of years? Hadn't Steve saved his life when he almost fell from a train? Sure, he almost pulled his arm out of the socket, but at least he was alive to tell the tale. For how much longer, he couldn't say, as guys with guns appeared from left and right.
Hot on Steve's heels, Bucky turned the next corner and realised his buddy had stopped running. Glancing up and around at their surroundings, the two of them must have looked as flabbergasted as each other when they realised where they were. It was familiar, albeit vaguely. It was New York after all, but Times Square looked nothing like it had the last time they were there.
"What the...?"
"At ease, soldiers."
Bucky followed Steve's gaze to a tall black man with an eyepatch and almost started to believe he was still asleep after all. For all the strange things he had seen - from Schmidt's red skull to a glowing cube that could power weapons and more - it would still make more sense for this to be a dream rather than reality, that was for sure.
"Look, I'm sorry about that little show back there," the black man said, hands raised in some kind of placating gesture, "but we thought it best to break it to you slowly."
"Break what?" Bucky asked, glancing at Steve and finding he looked equally as confused, something that was almost comforting in the circumstances.
"You've been asleep, Sergeant, Captain," the stranger in the long coat explained to them both, "for almost seventy years."
To Be Continued...