Steve rode back to Avengers Mansion, parked his motorcycle in the garage, and walked through the elaborate front gates. As he grew closer to the front door, Janet Van Dyne opened it and smiled at him.

"So, how'd it go?" she asked.

If this had been almost anyone else, Steve would've given a vague response before giving an equally ambiguous response.

I can't lie to her, Steve thought. She's such a ray of sunshine. The Avengers are better for having around.

"Not as well as it could have," he replied, upon reaching the front porch. "Are the others home?"

"Tony and Thor are out on patrol, Psyche is at work, and Hank's in his lab," Jan replied, opening the door wider. "I'm sorry about your brother."

She moved out of the doorway as Steve entered the mansion.

"Thank you," he said with a sad smile on his face.

"Welcome back, Sir," said Jarvis.

"Thanks, Jarvis," Steve said, mentally reminding himself that he was speaking to someone, even if they weren't physically present. "If anyone needs me, I'll be in the training room."

He could tell by the concerned expression on Jan's face she wanted to object. Instead, she simply nodded.

"I understand," she said.

He walked past her and ran his hand through his hair with a sigh.

Where did things go so wrong, thought Steve.

XXXXX

Lower East Side, Manhattan. 1925.

The apartment Steve, Douglas, and his parents lived in was barely large for them. Their mother, Sarah Rogers, stood near the stove as she cooked breakfast. Their father, Joseph Rogers, sat on the couch listening to the radio. A young Steve and Douglas played with their new train on the bare rug near the couch.

"But I want to make it go faster," Douglas whined.

"And I want to make it go slower," Steve said.

The remote control sat between the pair.

"Quiet boys, I'm trying to hear this," their father snapped, as he reached over to turn up the radio.

As the newscaster droned on, both boys reached for the black remote control at the same time. Douglas's hand touched it first, and he yanked it away from Steve. Steve cried out and their father reached down and smacked both of them on the side of the head.

Steve knew better than to react, so he just held his head. From his place on the rug, he could see tears appear in Douglas's eyes.

"That's enough boys," their father said. He snatched the remote control from Douglas's hand and put it in his pocket. He then turned off the radio, pushed off the couch, and stood up. "If you two can't play nice with it, then you don't get to play with it at all."

Their father stomped out of the room and down the hallway, opening and slamming his bedroom door closed.

Their mother turned to them with her brows knitted together and a frown marring her face.

"I'm so sorry, boys," she said. "Are you both all right?"

She looked between them now as Steve turned to his brother.

"I'm sorry, Douglas," he said.

Guilt filled him as he reached for his younger brother. Tears appeared in Douglas's eyes and he furiously wiped them away with his arms.

"Whatever, I didn't want to play with this stupid toy anyway," Douglas said.

He quickly stood up and rushed past their mother and down the hall. Steve walked toward his mother, who bent down and stretched out her arms.

XXXXX

"Steve, are you ok?" Jan asked.

Pushing past painful memories aside, Steve stopped walking and turned around. As he looked at Jan, he noticed that her brows were knitted together and a slight frown marred her face.

"I'm sorry I was lost in thought. What were you saying?" he asked.

"I said if you ever need or want to talk, you know where I'll be," Jan replied.

"Thank you, I appreciate it," he said. "But this is something I need to deal with myself."

With that, he turned and resumed walking toward the training room.

On the other side of the city, Douglas Rogers sat in a doctor's office beside Mark.

waiting room. The room was small and square with an examination table and two armchairs and one stool.

"What the heck is taking them so long?" Mark asked, lowering his paperback into his lap as he glanced at the clock on the wall. "You'd think with how much they hassle patients about being on time-"

Just then, the door opened and a blonde woman wearing dark scrubs and a white lab coat entered the room followed by a young brunette nurse carrying a clipboard. Douglas recognized the brunette nurse, Sophie, as the same one who'd performed his physical exam earlier.

Mark stood up and walked toward the women while Douglas remained seated. He was too damned old to stand up every time someone significant entered the room and besides, his back was especially aching today.

Besides, the bastards are just going to talk about me like I'm not here anyway, Douglas thought.

"Hello, I'm sorry for keeping you both waiting," said the blonde doctor. "I'm Doctor Doyle."

"Doctor Doyle, Nurse Sophie, so good to see you," Mark said, shaking Dr. Doyle's hand.

"Please, let's all be seated," Dr. Doyle said, gesturing to the nearby chairs and stool. "I figure you all have been waiting for long enough. Douglas, how are you feeling today? Nurse Sophie says you lost some weight."

Shit, they actually want me to participate in this, thought Douglas. I wasn't expecting that.

"Well, I haven't been feeling any different lately," he responded.

"No changes in appetite? Stress level? What about exercise level?" Dr. Doyle asked and to each question, Douglas shook his head. "Very well. I'm going to check your breathing, is that alright?"

Douglas nodded. "That's fine."

Forty-five minutes later, Mark and Douglas sat in the car as Mark pulled out of the parking lot.

"Well, Doctor Doyle seems to think you're in perfect health," Mark said. "That's good."

"I was a soldier, Mark, we can't afford to sit around and get fat," Douglas replied.

Mark cast him a sideways glance and Douglas noticed his son sizing him up.

What's that look for, he thought.

"While it was a while ago, there are some things you just don't forget," he added. "Your mother, bless her, knew that."

Douglas's wife, Winifred, had been understanding when it came to some of Douglas's struggles. She'd been the patient person, the saint, Douglas had never been. Sadly, she'd passed a few years ago and shortly thereafter, Douglas had moved in with Mark and his family.

"Yeah, mom was always so patient and understanding," Mark answered.

"She truly was," Douglas agreed.

XXXXX

New York City, August 1945.

The city was sweltering, with everyone who was able to drive going to the nearest available shoreline. Douglas went a few miles to one of New York's numerous beaches. A merciless blast of heat hit him as soon as he opened his motorcar door.

Douglas ran a hand through his hair, which was practically sticking to his head. At that moment, he spotted an ice cream stand with on one in line yet. His stomach growled and he made a beeline for it, however, he abruptly stopped as soon as he bumped into a woman with short brunette hair.

"Hello, I'm very sorry, could I cut in front of you for a second?" she asked, her gaze soft and sincere. "It's just that-"

"Sure," said Douglas, without giving it a second thought.

He took a step back and a beautiful smile appeared on the woman's face.

"Oh my goodness, thank you so much," the woman replied, as she stepped in line in front of him.

XXXXX

To this day, Douglas still hadn't known what had possessed him to say yes. Maybe it had been her smile or her desperation. Either way, he'd never regretted his decision.

I wish you were here, Winnie, he thought as he watched the buildings pass by out the window. I could really use your advice.

Greetings, Loyal Readers! My apologies for the delay in posting, but between this story, other projects, and real life, I've had quite a lot keeping me busy. As a result, I hope you appreciate the two chapter update. It is my hope to have this story completely finished next month but I also don't want to promise anything and not be able to deliver.

As usual, if you liked this story, please feel free to give it a comment or like as they're currently the best paycheck I have!