103.
Brooklyn, New York
September 18th, 2012
Steve gets an exciting opportunity to move to DC and work for SHIELD.
He umms and ahhs about it for a long time, before finally agreeing. There isn't much holding him in New York, and it isn't a long drive to come back and see Becca.
He packs up his possessions and leaves the apartment relatively empty. He'll come back to it someday. He leaves what he doesn't need – the new DC apartment comes fully-furnished – and packs it into a SHIELD-organised moving truck. He loads the bike up into the truck as well, ready for the drive down.
He decides to have one final farewell-for-now lunch at a familiar spot before he gets in the truck and drives to DC.
He goes to the diner he used to frequent with Bucky and Isabel, which he hasn't been back to yet and has been dreading, but decides if there is a good time, it would be now, and he wants to see if their milkshakes are still the best in Brooklyn.
With a strawberry milkshake in front of him, he takes a hesitant first sip, and a flood of memories come rushing back. The bright red booth he sits in is the one they usually chose, by the window, with black and white checkered floor underneath him. The place hasn't changed much at all, and it could use a lot of work. The booths are the same, he thinks, but they've been recovered. The walls could use a nice coat of paint. There is the remnant glue of old stickers across the windows.
He closes his eyes and listens to the sounds. Apart from the chimes of phones, it's almost the same. The music coming through the speakers hasn't changed. The bustle of the kitchen is much the same. And the food and its recipes seem pretty well unchanged.
With his eyes closed, he can almost imagine his friends sitting at the booth with him.
He feels someone slide into the booth across from him, and he tenses up, feeling like his memory is too real. He opens his eyes and jolts when a familiar auburn-haired woman is smiling at him.
"Reminiscing?" Nat asks, smiling softly.
"Hi Natasha," Steve says. He frowns at her - he really doesn't know her that well, having only spent about two days with her, and part of that time being fighting aliens coming out of a wormhole above Stark - Avengers - Tower. "I was, a little."
Nat reaches across and pulls Steve's milkshake toward her, taking a sip. He frowns even more, a little taken aback by her brashness. "That is good," she breathes.
"Have it," Steve offers. "Or I can order you a new one?"
"No, thank you," Nat declines, waving her hand. "I'm supposed to be lactose intolerant. But a little sip won't kill me."
"Your hair is different. It's straight," Steve notes.
"Yeah, I got sick of curling it everyday," Nat says, playing with the strands of her fringe. "Always good to try something new. Like moving to D.C. in the spur of the moment."
Steve rolls his eyes. "I did think it through, unlike most of the other decisions I make in my life."
The waitress walks past, and Nat orders a Diet Coke and a meal deal, Number Three. "Yes, I've noticed that even since you… dethawed… you're quite impulsive," Natasha notes.
"I've always been impulsive. Used to drive Isabel crazy," Steve smiles. "I just kind of do things."
"Like crashing a plane and icing yourself."
"And please don't say it like that," Steve shudders slightly.
"Don't like the cold?" Tash raises an eyebrow.
"Definitely not."
The two fall into silence for a while. Steve's food arrives, and so does Natasha's, and the two quietly feast on burgers and fries.
"Is it hard being back here?" Nat asks quietly. "Somewhere you used to come. It's all different now, I suppose. Same streets, same buildings, different people, different uses."
"It is weird," Steve agrees. "I haven't spent a lot of time exploring since…" Steve trails off, not wanting to finish the sentence. Since I was last here and my life wasn't in shambles. Since I was last here and Bucky and Isabel were here as well. "I haven't really faced it, I suppose. There's been a lot to learn and a lot to do. But some of the memories are good. I used to do the paper route in the mornings, so I knew this area really well. It is both interesting and sad to see how everything's changed."
"The world keeps on moving," Nat agrees.
"I'm just trying not to get left too far behind."
"And moving to D.C. helps you keep up this facade of not facing things, right?" Nat presses.
Steve looks at her, his mouth a thin line. "There isn't really anything holding me here, anymore. An opportunity's come up... Maybe it will help me find a new purpose. Help me move on."
Nat smiles sadly and nods. "Sorry. Stirring up unhappy memories."
"No… I mean. Bittersweet. I can never go back, but I'm trying to look forward to the future. To my future. This is the first time in my life I've actually had a future to look forward to. I'm not sickly. I'm not fighting in a war. I can't see where I'm going, but I know there's time. It does feel nice. And I think D.C. will be a welcome change to keep moving forward.
"I agree," Nat says with a comforting smile. She reaches across to pat his hand. "I'll see you in D.C.," she says, before she leaves the diner, leaving Steve scratching his head in thought.
Washington, District of Columbia,
September 24th, 2012
Moving to D.C. feels like a fresh start for Steve.
The streets are entirely new, the air smells different, the city is smaller and full of different people. He's got hardly any memories of the city, except for the two shows he did along his USO Tour in the two days he was in the state. He's got no family here, no connections, nothing to tie him to the area. It feels utterly different to Brooklyn, and while he still loves it there and its home, it feels nice to get away from it all for a while. And mainly, to get away from the memories of the things that aren't there anymore.
A few days before, Steve packed up the apartment of his personal belongings and clothes, locked up the apartment with every intent of returning every few weeks to visit Becca and check in with the Avengers, got in the moving van and started the five hour drive down to D.C. from New York. The drive had been nice and peaceful, and he'd plugged in the StarkPod that Tony gave him and played all of the music as he drove, his finger tapping to the beat on the steering wheel. The music had been different and varied, but Steve hadn't minded it. The only one that made him jump was the one that started with a man screaming, followed by loud drums and guitars and other instruments. Steve is sure Tony put that in there as a prank.
The best thing about moving to Washington D.C. is that Steve will be working fulltime at SHIELD, and he'll have some sort of purpose again. And, Fury said, there are ways to do overtime as well, make a bit of extra cash, and spend a bit of extra time not thinking about his life and what he's supposed to be doing. He won't be sitting around his apartment sulking and moping. He won't have time to walk through the streets of Brooklyn and analyse every street corner for what's different and what's still the same and what used to be there but is now knocked down in favour of something useless or exaggerated or excessive. That hadn't been a healthy lifestyle, and Steve knows it. Working all the time is probably not much better, but he wants a new purpose and wants to meet new people.
Fighting with the Avengers in Manhattan had been like turning a new page for Steve and it had reinvigorated him in his life. He hopes moving to Washington will be like starting an entirely new book.
His new apartment is one that SHIELD provides for him, but this time they haven't tried to deck it out in forties-era décor. It's modest and plain with white walls and brown timber floorboards. It's light and airy and neat with minimal furniture. Steve doesn't bother bringing anything other than his linen down to D.C., and a few personal belongings like photos and his memories box, leaving everything else at the Brooklyn apartment. There isn't much point when SHIELD has furnished the apartment to a liveable amount and provided every utensil and appliance Steve could possibly need.
Clint had told Steve he should rent out the Brooklyn apartment, make a bit of cash on the side. He'd contemplated it for only a second, and then pushed that thought away. He didn't want anyone else living in that apartment. He'd use it as a base to return to Brooklyn. Who knew, he could be returning there earlier than anyone thought.
Steve moves in within a few hours, walking back and forth from the van and up the three flights of stairs, filling the built-in wardrobe with the retro-looking clothes the SHIELD agent bought him when he first woke up, and also with the newer styled clothes he's been slowly buying himself over the last few months. He's got quite the variety now – shoes for all occasions, active wear for when he goes on his runs and spars in the SHIELD gym, a few suits and ties for formal occasions, and an abundance of t-shirts, jeans, trousers and jackets he can match up. It's all pretty simple and plain, but he can deal with it so that's what he buys.
It's more clothes than he's ever had in his life. He wouldn't say he's a materialistic guy, but it certainly feels nice to have things that are his own.
Steve sets up his laptop, works out how to connect it to the Wi-Fi in the building, and then finds he has a few emails already, most of them from SHIELD about his commencement working with them, beginning on Monday. But there's also an email from JARVIS, Tony's ceiling robot thing that Steve is yet to really wrap his head around.
"Dear Captain Rogers," it reads.
"My regards to you. I hope you are settling well in your move to our country's capital. How very fitting for a man of your patriotism."
Steve barks out a laugh. He swears sometimes that JARVIS inherited his snark from Tony himself.
"Mister Stark has asked me to send you a detailed list of things that have been invented since nineteen-forty-five that you may come across in your adjustment to the new century. Mister Stark also says that he is hoping to continue your education on "All Things 21st Century" that Agent Barton began so many months ago. Here's hoping you find the list comprehensive and informative.
Regards,
J.A.R.V.I.S"
Steve opens the attached document and finds a rather extensive list of objects that have been invented since he crashed the plane with a small description of the item as annotated by Tony, and then a link to an internet hyperlink that undoubtedly provides more information about the object. Steve laughs his way through the list at Tony's sarcastic commentary.
The list includes, but isn't limited to –
Hula Hoops– Fun fact: These aren't actually a modern invention, Cap. The ancient Greeks and Egyptians had versions of them, but we decided to make them out of plastic and sell them to kids. Because capitalism.
Nonstick Cookware– Now you can flip pancakes without having to scrape half of them off the pan. Modern miracles.
Barbie– A doll that has somehow survived decades of scrutiny and is still teaching little girls they can be anything. Even astronauts. Or CEOs. Or, more realistically, exhausted.
Diet Soda– Because some people want sugar but without the sugar. You've met Diet Coke already. I believe your exact words were, "This tastes like chemicals." You are correct.
Video Recorders– You missed the whole era of people painstakingly recording bad home movies on VHS tapes. But now, you just pull out a phone, film someone looking grumpy or doing something stupid, and upload it for the world to enjoy.
Superglue– Because people needed a way to permanently attach their fingers together in a moment of poor decision-making. Or glue their broken shoe back together.
Velcro– Revolutionary fastening technology, originally developed for NASA, now used primarily to keep five-year-olds from having to tie their shoes.
Polio Vaccine– Little Billy down the road sure could have used that in '39. Seriously, though, science did its thing, and polio is mostly a thing of the past. Medicine: 1, Polio: 0.
Oral Contraceptives– No need to go into detail here, but let's just say that the world has a lot more people in it now, and it could've had even more without these. If you hook up with a lady and she doesn't take these, make sure you wrap Steve Jr.
Credit Cards– You have one and it's very helpful; you just need to set yourself reminders to make sure you pay them off. Welcome to adulthood in the 21st century.
Roll-On Deodorant– Because smelling like you just fought a war isn't socially acceptable anymore.
TV Dinners– The idea of you sitting in front of the TV with a tray of frozen mashed potatoes and a Salisbury steak is my new favourite mental image.
Microwave Ovens– I believe you experienced the rollercoaster that is microwaves when you microwaved a TV dinner with alfoil attached. You put food in, press a button, and BAM! It's either lava or still cold in the middle. Magic. No metal.
Automatic Doors– I swear, I should've filmed your reaction. You looked like a caveman encountering fire.
Three-Point Seatbelts– Because some genius figured out that not flying through a windshield is preferable.
Ultrasounds– (Not exactly applicable.) But if you ever need to confirm if someone's pregnant, technology has advanced. *See Oral Contraceptives point.
Color Television– Everything is no longer in black and white. I know this has been a shocking revelation for you.
Bubble Wrap– Invented for packaging, used for stress relief. Don't even try to resist popping it. You will fail.
Cassette Tapes & Walkmans– (And now, obviously, StarkPods and whatever other brands are on the market.) You missed the era of people rewinding tapes with pencils. Lucky you.
Automated Teller Machines (ATMs)– Money just pops out of a wall now. Magic? No. Terrifying bank fees? Absolutely.
The World Wide Web– Very informative. Congratulations, you now have access to the entire knowledge of humanity at your fingertips. And yet, people mostly use it to argue with strangers and watch cat videos.
Alaska & Hawaii Becoming States– Oh yeah, that happened. The map looks a little different now. Try to keep up. Don't even get me started on Europe.
There's also a note at the bottom from Tony saying he'll send through more when he finds them.
Steve spends a few hours googling everything and following the links. Most of it is amazing and effective and efficient and he isn't quite sure how they got through life without it. Some things he struggles to see the point of, like velcro – what's wrong with buttons and zippers? And hula hoops, what is that about? But he supposes it's all in the name of freedom and he embraces it.
He sends back an email to JARVIS thanking him for his help and claiming the list was very helpful. It's all very formal when he signs off with his full name, just as JARVIS did.