Chapter Text
The alarm clock at the side of my bed began blaring at its highest setting, disrupting my oddly dreamless sleep. I growled to myself as I reached over and short-circuited it. The alarm silenced itself as I rolled onto my stomach and pressed my face into the squishy pillows beneath me. The room was silent for only a brief moment before the cellphone on my bedside table began chirping away. Someone wanted me to come to work. I swatted at the touchscreen blindly until it stopped beeping with the rejected call.
As the world plunged back into silence, I smiled and went back to sleep. I was exhausted. The prior night had been mostly spent writing my report on the Asgardians. I had delayed it for far too long already. Barely a second passed before the home phone in my living room began howling. I shot up from my pillows in fury. Why the hell did I still have a home phone? It was the twenty-first century for god's sake. I growled in frustration, hopped up from the bed, walked out to the living room and ripped the cord from the wall, silencing the phone.
It was going in the trash by the end of the day. I let out a deep breath as I glanced up at the clock on the wall. It was just past five o'clock in the morning. Who the hell wanted me this early? It didn't matter. I may as well have gotten up anyway. It wouldn't be long before S.H.I.E.L.D. started to bother me to get to work. Not to mention that I didn't sleep well anyway. My horrible dreams always woke me up in the middle of the night. So, I waltzed into the kitchen and chucked a piece of the lukewarm pizza sitting on the counter into the microwave.
Using one arm for leverage, I hopped up onto the kitchen counter in my long sleep shirt and tucked my knees to my chest, zapping the television with a blast of electricity, turning it onto the news. I quickly realized it was a mistake. A call came through the television that I couldn't avoid now. They would be able to see that I had been active and had ignored their call. It was time to respond. I jumped off the counter, snatched my boiling pizza from the microwave, walked to my couch and accepted the call. I fell back onto the couch with my knees tucked under me.
It was unsurprising to see Phil Coulson on the other end of the call. "Agent Davies," Phil said, by way of greeting.
Phil looked like he wanted me to get to work, which was my least favorite activity. "What? I did my job," I snapped. "Tall, Blonde, and Beautiful is gone and so is Tall, Dark, and Handsome."
Though I did kind of miss the Asgardians. They had been a little amusing. "Did you write your report?" Phil asked.
"What am I, five? Yes, I wrote the fucking report," I barked.
"Last night at two in the morning doesn't count," Phil said.
That was when I did my best work. "Sure, it does. My job is done, Coulson. Leave me alone."
"Your job doesn't end there," Phil pointed out.
"Come on, Coulson. We just battled gods from outer space. Can't we take a break?" I asked, taking a huge bite out of the sizzling pizza. If there was one person who was impossible to convince to ignore their duties, it was Phil Coulson. "We could spend a few days in Australia. Come on! I'll even take you to the Sydney Opera House. I know you've always wanted to go."
"I'll take you up on that when your job is done," Phil said.
Well, if he wasn't going to let me out of my job he could go to Australia himself. "Damn you, then. Go yourself," I said.
Phil pinched the bridge of his nose. "Victoria..." he muttered. I grinned at the obvious sound of annoyance in his voice. "Fury needs you on a mission in Budapest. I'm sending you the information now."
"I'm ignoring it," I sang.
"We'll see you at eight," Phil said.
"You won't," I countered.
Without properly saying goodbye, I ended the call with Phil while shooting him a little smile. There was no way I was going to Budapest today. It was someone else's turn to go out of the country. I didn't want to go on another trip until I was ready. I'd spent so long dealing with the two Asgardian gods that the last thing I wanted to do was go on another mission. I needed some time to unwind and decompress from their adventures. Loki had always known how to rile me up. I reached over to the table and grabbed my circular wooden puzzle, beginning to twist it around.
It was what I'd always played with when I felt myself getting antsy. I flopped back onto my couch and switched to the morning news to see if anything interesting had happened. So far nothing seemed out of the ordinary. The normal attacks, grisly murders, and strange deaths, along with a few heart-melting stories to try and please the audience before moving about their days. There then came an alert regarding a Finnish scientist who had recently been found dead in his apartment. There were no leads with no evidence of an attack being left behind in his home.
That was enough to pique my interest. My eyebrows raised with curiosity as I turned to the television. I had always liked those kinds of stories. It now seemed that the scientist had taken his life, but I got the sense that not all was what it seemed. There was no evidence either way. Nothing that suggested foul play and nothing that proved it was suicide. He was young and healthy, so natural causes were unlikely. It was such a clean death that it looked like an attack I had planned. It seemed that the news was following the same thought process.
"It is believed that the death may be linked to the infamous mutant, Savage," a blonde woman on the screen reported.
What the hell did they just say? I dropped the wooden puzzle I was playing with and leaned up to face the screen. "Seriously? What the hell did I do?" I asked angrily.
For once, the death had nothing to do with me. The reporter went on to explain that there was nothing left behind at the scene. There were so signs of a struggle and nothing suggesting a suicide. No noose or bullet wound. There was going to be an autopsy performed on the body in the next few days to see if it could have been a heart attack or a natural cause - no matter how unlikely it was. I rolled my eyes at them. The death of the Finnish scientist was more than likely the work of a skilled assassin who was betting on the attack being pinned on me.
"Early reports suggest that Savage may have recently been in the area, though she has usually been known to leave evidence behind," the woman continued.
Usually? I snorted, speaking out loud to the television. "Excuse you, I take pride in my work. I always let you know if it's me."
"The Strategic Homeland Intervention, Enforcement and Logistics Division, better known as S.H.I.E.L.D., have contested the reports, confirming that Savage is currently based in Washington D.C.."
S.H.I.E.L.D. had finally helped me out. The reporter went on discussing the laws that had been placed to try and keep tabs on me over the years. I could only be moved by S.H.I.E.L.D. and the proper authorities or governments must be alerted whenever I did move. I was to stay out of government-owned properties that weren't run by S.H.I.E.L.D. I rolled my eyes at them again. They never went through with it. Those people would never try and keep tabs on me the way they were supposed to, mostly because they were afraid of me. It also helped that Fury kept them off my tail.
Despite that I had been working for S.H.I.E.L.D. for nearly twenty years, the government and almost every person on Earth still didn't trust me. It would have been a little offensive but I supposed that they had a perfect reason for not trusting me. I had given them enough reason to believe that I was dangerous over the years. I let out a deep breath as I felt the energy crackling at the ends of my fingertips. I closed my fists, trying to calm myself down. It was too early in the morning for that kind of thinking.
Unwilling to listen to the news reports any longer, I flipped the channel to some terrible morning talk show where they were discussing something along the lines of their favorite wines. I rolled my eyes. Of all the things in the world to spend your Saturday morning talking about... After a few minutes had passed, I wandered over to my patio and watched the sunrise over the city. The one thing I had always loved about Washington were the views. My apartment may not have been the nicest place in the world but it did look out to the skyline and offer a good view of the Triskelion.
I walked back into the apartment and grabbed my cup as the coffee maker began beeping. I took the mug and brought it back over to the patio, sitting down on one of the cushioned chairs and folding my feet underneath myself. This was the time of day I loved most. It was too early in the morning for anyone other than the rare commuter to be out and about. The skies had painted themselves bloody and there was a slight chill in the air that reminded me of London. I could imagine the chimes of Big Ben in the background.
The gentle breeze blew the wind through my hair, floating it around my head and cooling the coffee down. I leaned my head back against the cushioned chair as I watched the clouds move through the air. I loved the silence of the morning where I could get lost in my thoughts and imagine that I was back in the best time of my life. Having my coffee in hand and sitting quietly in my pajamas without the blare of the television, I could almost imagine him coming out to sit with me.
That was a thought I couldn't bear to think on for more than a few minutes. Not when it was something I couldn't have. I swallowed a lump in my throat as I fingered subconsciously at the rings that still rested against my chest. All these years later and I still wore the rings tucked underneath my shirt. I couldn't bear to part with them as I had never gotten to say goodbye. Not the day he had died, not at his funeral, and no time after that. No one had ever let me mourn when they thought his death was my fault. So, I had settled on always keeping him with me.
Being without Bucky was perhaps the hardest thing I had ever had to experience. It was tough and there were so many days I'd thought I would just lay down face-first and pray to whatever power was out there that I would die. But, eventually, just the way Peggy had once said, the time had healed my wounds. Never completely, though. I was still so much in love with him and still thought about him nearly every day, but it wasn't the stabbing pain I had once felt. Perhaps now it could be considered to be more of a dull throb.
Pushing myself back in my chair, I leaned against the cushions and kicked my feet back up onto the railing. I glanced back at the S.H.I.E.L.D. jacket on the other chair and shook my head. I may not have always loved working for S.H.I.E.L.D. but what else was I supposed to do with my endless life? Nothing. I was going to be on the planet forever, I may as well have done something I was good at without people constantly badgering me to be better. Plus, this was one of my last connections to the people that had once meant the world to me.
Desperate to ignore my supposed responsibilities in Budapest, I instead spent most of the early morning trying to catch up on my seemingly endless list of chores I had put off for far too long. I headed to do my laundry first. Most of my clothes were either stretch pants that I hung out in during the days or my bloodied uniforms. I pulled one of my uniforms off the floor and groaned. It was coated in blood and smeared with the guts of a few soldiers I had killed. I groaned in disgust and turned to throw the uniform in the trash.
I'd always hated doing chores. Even when I was almost one hundred years old, I could still care less about chores. I spent hours cleaning up after myself; doing my laundry, cleaning up the messes I'd left in the kitchen, and trying to clean my weapons. I wandered through my small apartment, tripping over things I had left on the floor over the past few weeks. I had spent most of my time recently in New Mexico and before that, New York. This was the first time in months I had been at my home in Washington D.C.
Something dawned on me as I was cleaning. There was a large stack of files on my table that didn't belong there. Fury normally come and dropped them off when I was away. Sometimes they were people he wanted me to go after and other times it was because he wanted me to put away the files when I took them from his office and left them on his desk instead of putting them away. I rolled my eyes and gathered them in my hands. If he was going to be an ass about it, they were going straight in the trash. I was halfway there when a file broke open, its contents spilling onto the floor.
"Shit. Goddammit," I swore.
I threw the rest of the files carelessly onto the table - now hellbent on burning the files just because Fury annoyed me - and leaned down to pick up the papers that had fallen out of the other file. I shoved the papers back into the file and was about to toss it with the others onto the glass table when I realized that a picture was sticking out of it. I slowly pulled the picture out, realizing with a sudden feeling of horror that I knew who it was. It was Steve. The picture was of my friend before he had undergone the serum. I took the picture and raised it to my eyes.
"What the hell?" I gasped.
No one ever had this file. Not for years. Peggy and Chester had made sure of that since not long after his death. What the fuck was Fury doing with Steve's file? I hadn't seen the file myself in years. It had been marked classified and closed just a few days after his death in the Valkyrie crash. No one was supposed to have it out. I supposed that Fury had the authority to open and read through it, but what would he have put it in my apartment for? He would have known that I wouldn't have wanted to see it.
Unable to process what was going on, I stared at the file for a long time. What would Fury have wanted with Steve's file anyway? He had asked me about Steve many times over the years but I - after blowing apart part of his office from frustration - had made it painfully clear that I didn't want to talk about him. I never spoke about Steve to anyone. I didn't speak about Bucky either. My silence didn't matter though. Plenty of stories had been told about them from those who had known them. They were mostly true unless it had something to do with me.
The file had to be out here for a reason. Something was going on. I looked into the living room and was suddenly struck with images of my boys sitting there. Bucky making breakfast for us as Steve came for a visit. Flashes of the Valkyrie crash and the train bound for Switzerland flashed through my mind. I let out a deep breath and shut my eyes, pushing those horrifying images away, praying that wherever the boys might have been now if there was a life after this one, that they were together and happy.
I swallowed a lump in my throat as I wandered back into my kitchen. There wasn't much food in the refrigerator or pantry but I did have a fully-stocked bar. I took a bottle of vodka from my upper shelf and swallowed four large gulps. I may not have been able to get drunk but I did enjoy the burning feeling it left in my throat. I took a few deep breaths as the burn shot through my nose before placing the bottle back on the shelf. I knew the boys wouldn't be happy to see me drinking just because I was upset at their loss.
It was still a painful thought, even so long after I had lost them both. I walked away and stopped at the front door, thinking about heading out on a run. I had always gone on long runs to clear my head whenever I was upset about something. I hesitated for a moment, ultimately deciding that I wasn't going to go for a run. That was what I wanted to do but I knew that it wasn't the right thing. It was getting close to eight in the morning and the mission would be beginning soon. I could corner Fury about Steve's file before leaving.
As much as I hated going somewhere I'd had no intentions to go, I knew that it was time for me to start getting ready for the trip to Budapest. I didn't want to head to the other side of the world and I wasn't exactly afraid of what would happen if I didn't go, but I knew that I would have to listen to Fury complaining at me for weeks if I ignored his orders. So, I grabbed one of my remaining uniforms and walked toward my bathroom, only stopping briefly to look at the two pictures I had sitting on my dresser.
The first picture was the same one I had taken from my old room at the army base in London the day we had attacked the final Hydra base. It was folded and falling apart from the years that had passed, but I loved it. The picture was of Steve, Bucky, and myself outside of our childhood apartment with our arms looped around each other. I smiled at it. Peggy had been right. Time had passed and I'd nearly lost my mind with grief but I was left with only love for my boys. They were beautiful souls I had been lucky to know for as long as I had.
I turned to the other picture. It was one that had been taken when we were all on a mission deep in the French woods. We were standing around one of the military trucks. There was a map behind us that we were supposed to be looking at. Instead, we were all laughing at each other. It had been taken by one of the French soldiers. I was laughing at something Jacques had said (it had been an insult to Gabe) while Bucky had his arm thrown over my shoulder. Steve had his hand over his stomach from chuckling as the others laughed at Gabe's misfortune.
They were the two pictures that reminded me that I was capable of happiness. I loved the memories that came with them. "Good morning, boys," I whispered, pressing my hand against the frames.
After staring at the pictures for a moment, wishing I had them back but knowing that I couldn't and had managed to continue on my own for so long, I grabbed my uniform and headed to the bathroom. I changed out of my compression pants (one of my favorite changes in fashion over the last near eighty years) and t-shirt and into my leather uniform. I brushed out my long white hair, glad that straight long hair was now in fashion as it was the way I had always worn mine. It was one less reason for people to stare at me.
Once I had changed I walked back into the living room where the rest of my weapons and shoes sat at my coffee table. I poured myself a second cup of coffee and gathered my weapons, beginning to strap them to myself. Budapest wouldn't be a difficult fight so I settled on my Beretta and two throwing knives. I tucked my Beretta into my thigh holster and pulled my boots onto my feet. I put my foot up onto the table and grabbed my knives. I was about to tuck my knives into my holster when the television blasted a high-pitched screech.
"Victoria," Fury's voice called.
My head snapped up as I looked at the television. Damn him. I hadn't ever wanted a television that had video capabilities (I hadn't wanted a television in the first place) but Stark and Fury had both insisted. It was mainly so that I couldn't hide in my house and pretend I hadn't heard them calling whenever they wanted me to come work. Fury was currently on the screen and staring at me. He didn't look happy but that wasn't anything out of the ordinary. He was never happy with me. I sighed. There was no use hiding now.
"Jesus Christ. What the hell do you want?" I snapped. "I'm getting ready for Budapest, alright? I'll be there soon."
"Victoria, enough," Fury said calmly.
After all the times he'd annoyed me, he was going to hear about it. "Don't tell me you changed your mind?" I half-asked, half-sneered. "I told you that Budapest was stupid -"
"They found him," Fury interrupted.
Those three words were enough to stop whatever nasty insults I had planned dead in their tracks. I stopped wandering around the room and stared down at my reflection in the glass table. My hand hesitated as I went to slid my knife into my boot. I knew those three words. I knew their meanings. Strung together right now, they made no sense. Because I knew what he meant. I knew who he meant. It was someone I hadn't seriously thought about in a long time. It wasn't because I hadn't wanted to, it had just been too painful.
I didn't look up from the glass table, instead, I stared down at my reflection. "They found his body?" I asked, my voice strained.
"They found him. He's alive," Fury said.
My heart gave a jolt so hard that I thought I'd had a heart attack. My foot faltered from the edge of the glass table, hitting the ground with a heavy thud. The knife dropped from my hand and clattered against the wood floor. I couldn't think to pick it up. Never in a million years would I have expected Fury to say something like that. Was that why his file had been in my pile earlier? Did he know? Was he planning on having me think about him before telling me the truth? Steve Rogers, my best friend, long thought to be dead was alive.
There was a feeling in me that I had never had before. That part of my life that had long died out began to return. It was relief and shock. For just a brief moment, I felt like I was back in the nineteen forties, waking up knowing that Steve wasn't far from me. He was back. I could see him. I could talk to him. I could touch him again. Some vague sense of happiness expanded in my chest but it wasn't long before it was overtaken with a desperate desire to see him. I had to make sure that Nick wasn't lying to me.
"Where?" I asked hoarsely.
"He's at our base here," Fury said.
It meant that he was in New York City and that was where I needed to be. "I'll be there in ten minutes," I growled.
"You're four states away," Fury pointed out.
"You're right. Scratch that, I'll be there in five minutes," I said.
There was no time to waste. I had to be there with him. I had to see him. Fury began stammering. "Wait for a second, you're needed in Budapest," Fury said loudly. "You can come when the mission is done."
"Send Barton and Romanoff. I'll be there soon," I snarled.
"Victoria -"
He wouldn't be happy that I was going to leave without going to Budapest, but I didn't care. I ended the transmission with Fury without so much as another word. I knew that Fury would be furious with me for ignoring him and coming to the base, but I didn't care. I had something more important to do. I couldn't focus in Budapest (without blowing the entire city to hell just to end the mission) so I wouldn't bother going. Clint and Nat would have fun out there. In the meantime, I wanted my life back. I wanted Steve back.
My cellphone in my bedroom began vibrating again but I ignored it. It would be Fury telling me to go on the mission and wait for him to invite me to see Steve. I walked out of the apartment without any of my things, slamming and splintering the door behind me from the impact. I would fix that later. I moved faster than I thought was possible out of the building and to the roof. That would be the easiest place for me to take off from. I was almost to the roof when I was cut off by one of the S.H.I.E.L.D. agents I had always liked.
"Victoria," Sharon, my downstairs neighbor greeted. Her face fell as she realized the anger that was written on my face. "Is everything -?"
"Move," I snarled.
Sharon stared at me like I had lost my mind as I shoved past her. She stumbled back into the wall. I did feel a little badly about the way I was treating Peggy's niece, but other things needed to be taken care of. I could tell Sharon that I was sorry for my poor treatment toward her tomorrow. Right now, I needed to get to New York City. I needed to get to Steve before they did something moronic and scared the shit out of him, which was likely the way this was going. I hit the roof and scowled up at the rising sun.
The pressure I had built up launched me into the air at supersonic speeds as I shot up through the air and took a tight turn to the northeast. I shot through the trees and soared past towering buildings as I made my way through Maryland, Delaware, New Jersey, and finally wound up in New York. I could see that Fury was at the hidden base in New York City, which meant that Steve was there too. I would have kept Steve somewhere more remote, but all that mattered right now was that I could reach him.
Giving myself just a second to make sure no one was under me, I slammed into the concrete as hard as possible as I landed in New York City, just outside of the S.H.I.E.L.D. base that they had brought Steve to. The people standing around the sidewalk jumped back in fear - some tumbling into the puddles in the street - as I walked forward. Some of the men from the S.T.R.I.K.E. team were standing around, including Brock Rumlow. He was one of the S.H.I.E.L.D. members I attempted to avoid because of his endless attempts to flirt with me, but right now he could be useful.
Rumlow smiled as I walked up to him. "Vic. Making an entrance, as always," he teased, pointing down to the cracked concrete.
His teasing comment didn't amuse me this time. "Rumlow," I greeted tensely.
"How many times do I have to say it?" Rumlow asked playfully. "Call me -"
"Where is he?" I interrupted.
The only thing I wanted to hear from him right now was where my best friend was. Rumlow's face fell with the realization that I knew what was going on. "They don't want anyone seeing him right now," Rumlow explained.
"I don't care. Where - is - he?" I asked, taking a seething breath between each word.
Rumlow let out a deep breath and said, "Come with me."
The two of us headed into the S.H.I.E.L.D. facility with me walking at Rumlow's side. I was sure that most people wouldn't be happy that I had come here against direct orders, but I didn't care. How long had they expected to hide this from me? To my surprise, I found that my heart was pounding as I walked. It was just over one hundred and ten beats per minute. I couldn't bring myself to slow it down. Steve was here, somehow still alive even after all these years. I was about to have some part of my old life back.
"You haven't seen him since the crash?" Rumlow asked, finally breaking his silence.
"No. Have you seen him yet?" I asked.
"No. They don't want anyone seeing him," Rumlow explained. Why would they have? They wanted to control the narrative. "Fury won't be happy that you're here and not in Budapest."
"Fury's happiness with me is of no consequence to me," I snarled. "In fact, get him for me, will you?"
Rumlow nodded. "I'll send him your way."
We had things to discuss. Fury needed to explain to me what the hell had just happened. How had they found Steve? I nodded at Rumlow as I pushed through the crowd toward where Steve was being kept. I tried searching for his brain waves but couldn't latch onto them. There was no sign of his thoughts. He must have still been unable to process thought from his deep freeze. He was still coming to. I knew where he would be though. I could see the trail of people heading deep into the building. I followed them to what appeared to be the backside of a massive sound stage.
A young S.H.I.E.L.D. agent in his early thirties stepped nervously in front of me. "Agent Davies -"
"Get out of my fucking way," I sneered.
The man stood ramrod still as I pushed the door open and walked in, feeling my stomach churn in knots. Steve was going to be there. I was going to see him for the first in nearly seven decades. I'd never even gotten to see his funeral. I'd just had to say goodbye to him by myself, just the way that I had done with Bucky. I spotted Steve in the corner of the room, laying on a cot similar to one that would have been seen in an old-time hospital. He had been dressed in a white S.S.R. shirt and a pair of beige slacks. His hair had been brushed and styled.
It looked as though time hadn't touched Steve, just the way time hadn't touched me. Except for him no longer wearing his uniform that had been created by Howard, he looked just the way he had when I'd last seen him. Only, he was still asleep. He hadn't been woken up yet. There was a lump in my throat as I walked up to him. It was him. Steve was here. He was going to be in for the shock of a lifetime when he finally woke up. Hell, I couldn't feel pain or die but I felt like I had just had a heart attack.
With a trembling hand, I reached out to touch him, just to know that he was real when I heard a voice. "I wouldn't touch him if I were you," Fury warned. I wasn't sure why, but I retracted my hand anyway as I looked at Fury. "We're trying to wake him up slowly. If he comes back to life too quickly, the shock to his system could be fatal. We want him to wake up naturally."
"I'm not going to wake him up," I argued.
"It could be accidental," Fury pointed out. I scowled at him. "Doctors say he should be awake in the next few days. It could be a few hours if his systems start up faster than we're expecting. They'll see him -"
"I want to see him first," I interrupted.
"Victoria -"
"Notice how my voice didn't go up at the end? Not a question," I growled dangerously. It would be over my dead body that someone else would see him before me. "I'm seeing him first."
Fury shook his head. "The doctors need to run tests and make sure -"
"I'm not asking, Nick," I repeated seriously. Fury looked at me in shock. It was extremely rare that anyone referred to him by his first name. "I'm seeing him. I'll do the blood work and vitals and run the tests."
Fury's eye drooped as he realized how serious I was. "You have an investment in this -"
"Hell yes, I do have an investment in what happens to him. Nick, I'm not kidding around," I snapped. Steve was back. After all these years, he was alive. I was the only person who had once known him. I was the one who needed to be here when he woke up. "The only person who's going to be here when Steve wakes up is me."
Another S.H.I.E.L.D. agent walked into the room, panting from exhaustion; probably trying to keep me out of the room. "Agent Davies, you need to stand -"
"Who the hell are you?" I interrupted.
The man looked vaguely familiar but I couldn't bring myself to care. I conjured a gust of wind and threw the agent back through the door to the fake hallway that led to the back of the sound stage. The man let out a high-pitched scream before hitting the ground in a crumpled pile of limbs, smacking into a few other agents on the way down. I brought up a force field and slammed the door closed behind them as the agents yelled at each other to get off. I turned back to Fury with a scowl on my face. He was pinching the bridge of his nose in frustration.
As usual, I was the source of his frustration. "Did you have to do that?" Fury asked.
"Yes," I answered, turning back to Steve. "How long have you had him?"
"An Arctic exploration team found Captain Rogers two days ago," Fury explained. Two days? My best friend had been back for two days and they had waited to tell me? "We brought him here to test vitals and ensure he's healthy enough to be woken up."
My eyes had turned deep red as I looked at Fury, anger bubbling in my chest. "You waited two days to tell me?" I snarled.
"I wanted to make sure he was stable before letting you know," Fury said.
"Sure. You just wanted to see him first," I said, scoffing. Fury rolled his eyes but I knew that I was right. He wanted his people to be able to look at Steve without me in the way. "Is he ready to be woken up?"
So many long years had already passed. Waiting another minute without Steve being awake now that I knew he was alive was agony. Fury nodded slowly. "Yes, but we can't rush the process," Fury said. I growled under my breath. Typical. "His body temperature is back to normal and his vitals are slowly starting to stabilize. Doctors recommend letting him wake up naturally."
"For once, they're right," I admitted irritably. As I rolled my eyes, I finally noticed the strange set that we were standing on. It looked like a poor attempt at a wartime medical ward. "What is this place?"
"It's supposed to be -"
"A nineteen forties style hospital. Yeah, I get that," I snapped, rolling my eyes at him. The attempt to cover up the reality Steve was going to be living in was obvious. "Why are you doing it that way? He's not in the nineteen forties anymore."
"I know that."
"And he'll have to know that at some point too."
"He will."
How long was Fury planning on forcing Steve to live in a lie? He would want to start seeing Chester, Peggy, Howard, and the rest of the guys. That would be extremely difficult to explain. "Why start his new life with a lie? All that's going to do is instill distrust in him," I pointed out.
"It'll be less of a shock if he wakes up somewhere familiar first," Fury said.
Fury was planning on giving him a moment of comfort before ripping away his reality. "You have got to be kidding," I hissed. Fury wasn't going to lie to Steve. The truth would hurt and be shocking but it had to be handled like pulling off a band-aid. Quickly. "I know you're not that smart -"
"Victoria -"
"- but this is stupid," I finished, ignoring Fury. "Tell him the truth."
"We will. In time."
"Nick -"
My voice softened for a moment before I was interrupted by another feminine voice. "Director Fury."
My voice died as I ripped my hand away from Fury's shoulder, turning to glare at the new addition. The young woman jumped in surprise. No one ever liked walking into a room I was already standing in. It was common knowledge that I was an agent best avoided unless I wanted something from you. The young woman looked like she was a little older than the age I had been frozen at so long ago. Her knees began trembling as I took a step closer to her. It was easy to see her twitch slightly as I advanced on her.
She wanted to run. Understandable, as I wasn't in a good mood. "Victoria, this is -"
"Agent Amanda Righetti, graduated magna cum laude from Brown University in International and Public Affairs," I interrupted Fury. We didn't need the niceties. I could fill in the blanks. "I know who she is."
Amanda looked shocked at my assessment. "Have we ever spoken?" she asked.
Why would I have ever spoken to someone like her? She looked like the kind of person I hated. I stared at the young woman, unsure of what our meeting had to do with anything. "No," I told her before looking back at Fury. "What the hell is she wearing?"
Fury grinned. "It should look familiar to you."
The costume Amanda was wearing wasn't even close to something a woman would have worn in my day. She looked like someone attempting to dress up as Peggy, which sent a spike of anger through my chest. "You don't know me at all if you think I'd have ever worn something like that," I told Fury. "Speaking of, she's all wrong."
"What?" Amanda asked.
"Everything about her is wrong," I explained.
"I look just like a woman from the forties," Amanda said defensively, placing her hands on her hips.
She looked like a teenager dressing up for Halloween. "No, you look like someone pretending to dress up as a woman in the forties," I snapped at her before looking back at Fury. Amanda stumbled back a few steps. "Normal people would be fooled, but someone who lived through the forties would see the mistakes. They're obvious."
"What are they?" Amanda asked.
If they wanted to know just how wrong she looked, I would tell them. "Your hair is completely wrong for the forties," I began. Amanda arched her perfectly formed brow and tugged subconsciously at her curls. "No professional or working woman would have worn her hair loose like that. It would be too hard to keep out of your face. Since this is supposed to be a working hospital, your hair should either be tied up or at least done in victory curls. Your lipstick is too dark. It's more purple than it is red.
"Your tie is both too wide and too long. It's a man's tie, not a woman's. Don't mind my saying, but the bra is terrible. Steve will never mention it, but it'll be his first warning. It's a foam cup, perfectly common now but unheard of back then. It would have been made from satin back in the forties. It's also either exceptionally old or ill-fitting. How else would we be able to see the tops of the cups? No woman would have been caught dead in lingerie like that back in the forties. Not to mention they're sitting far too low," I explained, smirking at her.
Amanda looked somewhere between startled and mortified. "What -?"
"I'm just pointing out what he'll notice," I answered her.
If I was able to notice the mistakes so quickly, so would Steve, especially since he only knew one time. It would immediately tip him off to the fact that something was wrong. They were wrong to think that attempting to trick Steve was a good idea. Fury and Amanda stared at me for a long time, looking both confused and horrified that I could have picked out the errors in her wardrobe without more than a glance. Steve was destined to already be on edge after waking up somewhere strange when he had believed he was dead.
Eventually, Fury shrugged. "She's close enough."
I'd never seen Fury give up on something so quickly. Especially not when it had something to do with keeping a secret. "Close enough isn't close enough. He'll know something's up," I told him.
Fury gave me a curious look. "We'll see."
What the hell was going on with him? It wasn't like Fury to let things go. That was when the answer dawned on me. I knew exactly what Fury was doing. He wanted to know if Steve was genuinely the greatest soldier to have ever lived. Fury had placed things in the room just off enough to alert Steve to the fact that something was wrong. Fury wanted to know if Steve could put two and two together and realize that he hadn't been found just a few weeks after the crash. Fury wanted Steve to find out the truth for himself. He wanted him to know that something was wrong.
It might have been Fury's plan, but I had a feeling that he didn't want Amanda to know. "Let's talk," I told Fury, throwing my head over my shoulder toward the door.
Fury nodded. "Come on out."
We walked out of the hospital room together, ignoring the look on Amanda's face as we headed out into the fake hallway. I leaned up against the door frame with my arms folded over my chest. "Where's your head at?" I asked Fury. I needed to know what he was thinking about Steve before I said anything. The director shook his head wordlessly. "Tell me the truth and I'll do the same for you."
Fury let out a breath as he wandered back and forth in the fake hallway. "It's been almost seventy years," Fury said. I swallowed thickly. I was aware of every second that had passed since Steve's supposed death. "We don't know what kind of state he's in. There have been decades of nostalgia that could have clashed with the reality of what he's really like. He's spent years surrounded by the ice and radiation." Of course. We all knew what a toll that could take on someone. "You don't talk about him so I'm going off files. I've got trust issues."
I rolled my eyes at him. "So I've seen."
"Don't roll your eyes, that damned cat -"
"It was a Flerken, what did you think was going to happen when you played with it?" I interrupted.
Goose was the only Flerken I had ever seen, but I'd heard all about them and I'd always known not to play with Goose. "It looked like a cat!" Fury yelled defensively.
"That's what they all look like!" I replied.
"As I was saying, people say he's the best soldier in history," Fury said loudly, trying to put an end to the conversation. He knew he was a moron for playing with Goose and holding the Flerken to his face. "I want to know if that's true. I want to know if he can put two-and-two together or if he's just a normal dumb jock. If he's as smart as people say he is, putting him in a standard, modern hospital room and telling him the truth is going to have him clamming up and refusing to believe a goddamn thing he hears."
That was pointless. Steve was going to have a hard time believing what was going on whether we told him the truth or tried to proceed with the lie. "You know he's probably only going to rely on what I tell him, anyway?" I pointed out.
Whatever they told him, Steve would look to me for confirmation. "Of course," Fury said. I arched my brow curiously. His plan still didn't make complete sense to me. "But I want to see how long it takes the myth, the legend, to notice the mistakes. How long will he wait to get his bearings, confirm his suspicions and gather information before breaking out? What's he going to do?"
"You may not like your answer," I told him.
"If he's anything like you say, I will," Fury said.
"We'll see," I huffed.
"Do I have your support?" Fury asked.
Very rarely did people ever have my support. "No," I answered honestly. Fury scowled at me. "Though I highly doubt that you'll listen to me anyway and I'm not in the mood for a fight. I just want him back."
Fury looked shocked. "I've never seen you not put up a fight."
I smiled at him. When it came to having either one of my boys back, I was willing to stand down. I needed at least one of them to be back in my life. "I'm going to go back in," I said, pushing against the door.
Fury held out his hand to stop me. "Wait a second. Wear this, will you?" he asked, holding out an old trench coat.
It was a light beige trench coat that would fall almost to my feet. I stared at the piece of fabric in disgust. It looked like it was about to start growing mold. "This ratty old thing?" I asked, stepping back from it.
"It looks like it belongs in the forties," Fury argued.
"It looks like it belongs in the trash," I shot back.
Fury scowled. "Victoria -"
"Nick," I interrupted, smirking at him.
Fury didn't look amused at all by me calling him by his first name. "Wear the fucking coat," Fury barked.
He was starting to sound like me with the curses he threw around so carelessly. Fury balled the oversized coat up and threw it at me. The fabric whacked me in the face as I hadn't been expecting it. "Okay, rude," I grumbled, pulling the coat off of my face.
In a rare display of affection, Fury chuckled and laid his hand over my arm for a moment as we walked back into Steve's recovery room. I threw the trench coat over my shoulders as we walked in. It didn't look identical to something that would have been worn in the forties but it was close. I knew that Fury's main reasoning was because he wanted me to try and cover up my uniform. It was unlike the one I had worn when I knew Steve and would never have been acceptable to wear in the forties. I buttoned up the trench coat as we headed toward Amanda.
Fury looked at Amanda and shook his head. "You can leave. Come back when he's awake," he told her.
"Yes, Director," Amanda said respectfully.
She inclined her head as she turned to leave. She headed out of the set, closing the door gently behind her as I headed to the fold-out chair at Steve's bedside. I sat down and looked at his face. It was still locked in the frightened half-scream I had seen as the Valkyrie went into the ice. My stomach jolted with nerves. I was so desperate to touch him but I knew that I couldn't. Unable to keep my hands at my side without touching him, I laid them in my lap and threaded my fingers together. He would be awake soon enough. I could finally touch him again.
A hug... After so many years, I would finally hug someone again. I could barely remember the last time I had hugged someone. "It could be a few days before he wakes up. You don't have to wait here," Fury suggested gently.
Now that I knew he was alive there was no way I would leave him. Not until he was awake. I swallowed a lump in my throat as I stared down at Steve. "I do," I whispered weakly.
Fury laid a hand on my shoulder comfortingly. I reached up and took his hand for a moment. "We'll be watching," Fury said quietly.
As long as they gave me a moment with him, that was all that mattered. I nodded, sitting back in the chair. I didn't do anything as time passed. I sat and stared at Steve, waiting desperately for him to wake up. It was almost impossible not to touch him. All I wanted was to shake him awake. I needed to see him again. I needed to see his eyes and hear his voice. It had been so long since I'd had someone I truly loved in my life. Steve was one of the last people I'd had that I loved. He had been gone - and so had the love - but now he was back.
Was I finally going to revert to that woman who had been so happy in nineteen forties London? That woman who had so long ago become something else. The monster. The villain. With Steve back in my life, maybe I could finally be the hero again. Maybe the world would stop looking at me like I was the monster they told their children about at night. My throat tightened with the threat of tears as I looked down at one of the only two people in the world who had always believed the best in me.
The longer that I looked at Steve, the more I realized the truth. It wouldn't just be a fairy tale. He would be awake soon and I would have a lot of explaining to do. I wasn't sure how I felt about it. Thrilled, of course, but terrified too. I couldn't wait to see him but I was terrified of what he might think about me. What would he think when he learned of everything I had done over the years? What would he think when he realized that I wasn't the same woman he had always known? It wasn't like my time in Stryker's lab. This past nearly seventy years had been so different.
Steve had always known me to be violent with a taste for danger, but the past seventy years hadn't just consisted of me fighting against the bad guys of the world. I had done some monstrous things. I had done things that I wasn't sure Steve would ever be able to forgive me for. He'd always believed the best in me, but I had shown the world the worst. Far worse than even I had known I was capable of. Steve had always been a forgiving man, but was he that forgiving? I wasn't sure. I could only pray that he was.
Desperate to try and ignore my fears of Steve's acceptance of my past crimes, I sat back and watched the clock on the wall. Hours ticked by during which I did nothing more than sit in my chair and look between Steve and the clock. I didn't speak or call on anyone else, though I was sure they were desperate to know what I was thinking. I watched Steve, waiting for him to wake up, wringing my hands together to keep from touching him. It was hard, I had never been known for being patient. But this was one time I would have to wait. I would have to be patient.
No one came to check on me as time passed. No one wanted to come into the room in modern-day clothing if Steve woke up without warning. Their only chance at Steve believing that this was still the nineteen forties was having me being the only person in close quarters with him. Amanda was the only other person planning on coming in here when it was time. It seemed that I had gotten my wish that I would be the only one to see him when he first woke up. After all, I was his one true connection to his old life.
The rest of the agents were smart enough to know that I wouldn't react well to the rest of them coming in here without warning. This was the one moment that I was supposed to have by myself. I needed to be the only person to see him. My hands were trembling as the clock ticked away the new hour. It felt like it had been ages since I'd first arrived here. Almost three days had already passed. How long was it going to take before Steve woke up? I wasn't sure how much longer of this I could take.
It had been nearly eight hours when I finally noticed what I had been looking for the entire time. His eyes were moving behind his closed eyelids. He was waking up. I jolted forward from my somewhat relaxed state to the edge of my chair. After I had been alone for so many years - making new friends who still could have never replaced my old ones, as much as had I loved the new ones - I was finally going to have my best friend back. I tried to focus on the repeating game that had been on the radio for hours to keep myself from lunging on top of Steve.
"Curveball, high and outside for ball one," the long-deceased Dodgers announcer said over the radio. "So the Dodgers are tied, four-four. And the crowd well knows that with one swing of his bat, this fellow's capable of making it a brand-new game again. Just an absolutely gorgeous day here at Ebbets Field. The Phillies have managed to tie up at four-four. But the Dodgers have three men on. Pearson beaned Reiser in Philadelphia last month. Wouldn't the youngster like a hit here to return the favor? Pete leans in. Here's the pitch. Swung on. A line to the right. And it gets past Rizzo. Three runs will score. Reiser heads to third. Durocher's going to wave him in. Here comes the relay, but they won't get him."
Not that any of the baseball talk meant any sense to me. I had never liked baseball. It was a waste of time. Steve had loved it though. As I thought that, his eyes began moving even quicker behind his eyelids. He was almost awake. My heart began pounding as my hands developed beads of sweat. After all these years, after all those days spent alone and mourning, Steve was finally back in my life. His green eyes finally opened slowly as my yellow ones flooded with tears. He was alive. I let out a deep breath, trying to keep the heaving sobs at bay.
Steve's eyes scanned the room for a moment before landing on me. I finally reached forward and laid a hand on his leg. My hand didn't go through him. He was real. He was alive. He was in front of me. I could finally speak to him again. Steve's blurry eyes focused on me as I sniffed back tears. It was almost impossible not to jump onto him and wrap him in a hug. Steve's face turned from confusion to some form of recognition and maybe a hint of relief. His hands raised to my face to brush back my blonde hair. I breathed out shakily as he pushed it behind my ear.
My hand wound up to cover his as my body began trembling. It felt like a dream that would end at any moment. "Hey, sweetie," I breathed with a weak voice.
"Vic?" Steve asked, his voice hoarse.
"It - It's me," I stammered.
Steve looked around the room again. "I'm not dead," he commented.
I laughed breathlessly. "No, you're not dead."
Steve's face furrowed into one of confusion. "How did I -?"
"It doesn't matter," I interrupted truthfully. However he had survived and however he had been found didn't matter. All that mattered was that he was back where he belonged. "We can talk about it later. You're alive. That's all that matters." My hand finally slipped down from his to come and tighten around his shoulder. Steve smiled up at me. "You're here."
Steve swallowed thickly as he reached up and thread our fingers together. I tightened my hand around him as tightly as I could without breaking it. Steve's smile only lasted a few moments before he asked, "How long has it been?"
"Just a few weeks, but it's felt like years," I lied, my throat tightening with the desire to tell him the truth. Steve nodded blankly as he turned and pulled himself from the bed. He looked over at the radio as I laid a hand on his chest. He had already realized something was wrong. "Steve -"
As soon as I had opened my mouth to try and make up a reason he had to stay in bed, the door opened and Amanda walked in. Steve's eyes locked suspiciously on her. "Good morning," Amanda said, walking toward Steve's bed and closing the door behind her. She had a perfectly nice smile on her face as she looked down and checked her watch. "Or should I say, afternoon?"
"Where am I?" Steve asked, looking at Amanda but likely directing the question to me.
Amanda answered anyway. "You're in a recovery room in New York City."
Steve's gaze slowly moved down Amanda's body as I smirked into my lap. He had already realized that there was a problem here. Steve stared at Amanda for a moment before looking back at the radio. "The Dodgers take the lead, eight-four. Oh, Dodgers! Everyone is on their feet. What a game we have here today, folks. What a game indeed," the Dodgers announcer continued.
What was Steve's problem with the game? I'd never been one for baseball but it sounded normal to me. Steve looked back at Amanda suspiciously. Her smile faltered for a moment before returning. "Where am I, really?" Steve asked coldly.
I smiled into my lap. "I'm afraid I don't understand," Amanda said.
The smile was still plastered against her face, but Steve didn't look amused. At least Fury would be happy. "The game, it's from May, nineteen forty-one. I know, cause I was there," Steve told her. Had Fury known that? The smile dropped straight off Amanda's face as Steve turned to look at me, the suspicion now directed at me. "So was Bucky." I twitched slightly at the sound of his name but remained otherwise still. Steve slowly rose from the bed and strolled up to Amanda. "Now, I'm gonna ask you again. Where am I?"
Her body had tensed with nerves. She pulled out the transponder in her fist and gently pressed down on the panic button. I rolled my eyes. So much for trying to keep Steve calm. "Captain Rogers…" Amanda said quietly.
"Who are you?" Steve barked.
Amanda jumped as I walked up to them. I didn't want her parents suing us just because she had a heart attack. I walked up to Steve and laid a tight hand around his bicep. He looked down at me in shock as I pressed him back. "Steve, relax. We're here to help," I said half-teasingly.
Anything to help convince him that something was wrong. I could see that he was already teetering on the edge. I smiled at him with a grin that was one he'd always known. It was a teasing and daring smile that I had always used to tell someone that something was wrong without directly saying it. Steve's face fell. A second later two soldiers in black uniforms entered the room. Steve shoved my arm off of him in a sudden panic as he kicked the two soldiers through the wall. He pushed past myself and Amanda as he ran toward the opening.
He only hesitated for a moment at the edge of the opening to look around. He stumbled over the edge of the hole the two men had made and stumbled into the sound stage. He looked around in horror, spinning once before facing the double-doors that would take him into the center of the S.H.I.E.L.D. facility. Realizing that he was on a made up set, he ran off without another look back. I smiled, leaning against the edge of the bed as I watched him run. Amanda darted through the opening after him.
"Captain Rogers, wait!" Amanda pulled out her comm and yelled, "All agents, Code Thirteen! I repeat. All agents, Code Thirteen!" Amanda looked up at me and scowled at my lack of action. "Why don't you do what Director Fury said and do your damn job?"
I smiled at her and said, "I am."
The sound stage was just off the main entrance to the facility so he would be out in the street within seconds. It didn't matter how many soldiers ran after him. I could hear the punching and kicking from the lobby as I untied the trench coat, dropped it to the ground carelessly, and followed Steve's path. Men were sprinting past me to chase after him. I had to beat them to him. He was likely already out on the street and very confused. Men were standing on each side of me as I motioned for them to come along.
Steve was just up the street in the middle of Times Square. He had already been startled by a few modern-day cars that had passed him. His real confusion came from the massive electronic billboards that were mounted over the skyscrapers. He was turning in circles in shock as he tried to figure out what was going on. He was alone for barely a few seconds before numerous SUV's encircled around him. Fury was one of the first people to step out of the cars as soldiers surrounded Steve and agents pushed back the growing crowd.
"At ease, soldier!" Fury yelled, walking up the street toward Steve, who was staring at him looking as baffled as I'd ever seen him. "Colonel Nick Fury. Director of S.H.I.E.L.D. You would have known us as the Strategic Scientific Reserve."
"Where am I?" Steve asked.
"Forty-sixth and Broadway," Fury answered. Steve looked around, probably trying to remember what it had looked like the last time he'd been in Times Square. "Look, I'm sorry about that little show back there, but we didn't know what your mental state might be so we thought it best to break it to you slowly."
"Break what?" Steve asked somewhat harshly.
Fury was silent for a moment. "You've been asleep, Cap. For almost seventy years," Fury explained.
Though Steve had likely already known the truth, he still looked shocked. I brushed through the crowd of soldiers toward Steve. "Sixty-six years, eight months, and five days, if you want to be exact," I called loudly.
Steve whipped around to stare at me in shock. "Vic?" he breathed.
"Hi, sweetie," I chirped.
Steve's eyes traced up and down my body as I smirked at him. I knew that I looked nothing like I had the last time he'd seen me. My white hair was pin-straight and ran almost down my back. My eyes were blazing with excitement. My uniform had changed over the last seventy years. My pants were mostly the same, though they were tighter. My shirt was drastically different. It was a low-cut vest that left a few inches of flesh visible at my waist. It was far more revealing than anything I could have worn in the forties. Steve looked shocked to see what I was wearing.
The confidence was also probably a little jarring after I had been such a mess the last time we'd seen each other. "I know. I look a little different," I teased Steve, standing with my hip popped out to the side.
Fury crossed behind Steve to stand at my side. Steve hadn't yet looked away from me. Fury placed his arm around my shoulder protectively. "I believe the two of you are acquainted," Fury told Steve.
I smiled at them. "We're familiar," I answered.
Steve stammered over his words for a moment as he looked between us. "How am I alive?" Steve asked.
"To be honest with you, we don't really know. But docs say it was suspended animation. Could be Doctor Erskine's formula, the extreme cold, I don't know," Fury said.
Steve still looked overwhelmed. "If you'd all asked me - or told me that he was still alive when you'd found him - I would have told you," I snapped. "It's a mixture of all those things. "Think of how cryogenics works. Because of Abraham's serum, your body was able to survive the impact. You were likely still awake for a brief time after the impact but your mind would have immediately shut down from the extreme temperature. As long as blood continued to flow through your body and your heart continued to pump, even as slow as it would have been beating, you were able to survive."
Steve wore a blank look on his face as Fury turned a heated glare on me. "You couldn't have explained that earlier?" Fury snapped.
"You couldn't have told me when you found him two days ago?" I shot back.
"What about the war?" Steve asked, interrupting our argument. "Did we win?"
"Hell, yes. Unconditional surrender. Taking down Hydra was a big part of that," Fury said, probably trying to let Steve know that his sacrifice hadn't been for naught. It had meant everything. "But the world hasn't changed that much. There's still work to be done. A soldier's work. The world can still use a man like you, Cap." Nick moved forward to shake Steve's hand. I was a little surprised that Steve responded to the gesture. Though Steve had always been polite to everyone. "There's a place here for you."
Steve turned away from Fury to face me. I gave him a reassuring nod. "You can trust him," I said quietly.
He breathed deeply as he continued to look around in shock. "Sure you're alright?" Fury asked suspiciously.
"Yeah. Yeah. I just… I had a date," Steve said quietly.
My head snapped over to him. I'd never even thought about that. It had been years since I'd thought about the date Peggy had lost with Steve so long ago. I'd long since forgotten that Steve's last words to Peggy had been the two of them planning a date that would have never come true. Fury's brows furrowed and he gave Steve a long look before turning to me. I shook my head at him. That was Steve's business and no one else's. I turned and glanced at the now hundreds of people were staring at us. One man had been filming the entire situation.
The man with the camera stared at me as I snatched the camera from his hands and snapped it in half. The man stared at me, baffled, as I smiled and handed the pieces back to him. "That was a thousand dollar camera," the man said weakly.
"What do you value more? That camera or your life?" I snapped at the middle-aged man.
He visibly swallowed. "It wasn't that nice of a camera."
"That's what I thought," I growled, turning and walking back to Steve. He stared down at me as I took his arm. He immediately latched onto my wrist. His grip on me was tight and a little unsteady. "Come on."
"Where are we going?" Steve asked.
It was time to bring Steve back into my life. I smiled at him, wrapping an arm around his waist. "We've got a lot to catch up on," I told him brightly.