𝟕𝟎 𝐲𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐬

𝓦𝓱𝓸 𝓽𝓱𝓮 𝓱𝓮𝓵𝓵 𝓲𝓼 𝓑𝓾𝓬𝓴𝔂 ?

DISCLAIMER: I have never been to DC, or the museum of American history. I literally live in England. So I'm sorry if I got the layout wrong, we'll just go with it.
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It had took a hell of a lot of persuading Tony, for me to be where I was now. On a jet headed to DC. Apparently a jet was 'the norm.' For long distance, of course they were helpful. I insisted I would've been fine on the train, but Tony consistently put his foot down.

Eventually he said he didn't have a problem with me exploring and he hoped i wasn't under the impression that he wanted to keep me locked up after my accident. He was worried about my safety and the press.

That's how I wound up here, with some random, uptight looking man called Clint piloting, sitting in the back with an itchy baseball cap on and my hair tied back.

When we landed, I thanked the man, and headed off the jet, my head already hung low though we had landed in a huge clearing of a field.

He said that if I carried on north over some bridge I'd reach the Washington monument.

I pulled up google maps, setting my route to the Smithsonian and starting to follow the blue line. Thank god, the whole way there i saw no one give me a look or anyone whisper to their friends.

It was about half way there that I realised I should've worn a T-shirt and shorts.

When I reached the building, after about a 20 minute walk in the excruciating heat, I wanted so desperately to rip this damn itchy hat off my head. But in terms of suffering an itch, or being swarmed by paparazzi, I know I'd prefer the former.

The building was huge and white. White steps, white pillars. It looked pristine. Light.

I smiled as I stepped inside, encompassed by so many different sights, looking around at the large entrance hall. There was different wide corridors, branching out, with names painted above. Huge pictures on the wall, desks and cabinets in the corners. A huge statue of a man in the middle. I was too full of adrenaline to really take everything in. I grabbed a map from a table nearby to the right, keeping my head hung away from the gaggles of people around me.

I scanned the map and the names of the different exhibits, none of them what I wanted, when the name CAPTAIN AMERICA stood out on the page.

I found out where it was and headed at a start down one of the huge corridors. I passed many children with their parents; smiling at them running around and playing tag and laughing together.

I loved kids.

I passed people wearing headphones and small screens attached to a lanyard around their neck. I figured that was a way of a tour guide.

When I finally stepped inside the room, there were so many things to look at. The whole room had a red carpet with white stars and dark blue walls. The lights were pretty dimmed, and weird, old triumphant music was playing over speakers dotted around in hiding places.

There was a cabinet I passed, with huge numbers of people gathered around it.

Over the heads of them I could distinguish
a red, blue and silver circle. It sort of looked like a shield. There were people taking photos, standing open mouthed. Kids were pointing and talking in awe to their parents.

I quickly remembered not to hang around large numbers and walked under an archway into another room. Diagonally across the room stood 2 huge see-through stained grey glass panels with white writing and moving pictures on them.

The first one I looked at was all about 'captain America.' I decided to read it.

-A symbol to the nation. A hero to the world. The story of captain America is one of honour, bravery and sacrifice. Denied enlistment to fight in the First World War due to poor health, Steven Rogers was chosen for a program unique in the annals of American warfare. One that would transform him into the worlds first super soldier. Battle tested, Captain America and his howling commandos quickly earned their stripes, their mission, taking down HYDRA, the nazi rogue science division.-

I moved over to the next tall plaque and started to read.

-A fallen comrade- the title said. And I all but froze completely when I read the name.

James Barnes.

This is what I'd been waiting for. What I'd been looking for.

I took full engagement in what I was reading, absorbing and making sure I understood and remembered every last detail.

-All best friends since childhood. Bucky Barnes, Steven Rogers and his sister y/n Rogers were inseparable on both schoolyard and battlefield. Barnes and y/n, the golden couple in the neighbourhood. Barnes is the only howling commando to give his life in service of his country-

So James is....Bucky.
Bucky.
Bucky.

I'd heard that name before, yesterday, when I was listening to that conversation.

James and Steve.

It couldn't be a coincidence. It couldn't be too much of a crazy coincidence. Even if I woke up with his dog tags, which made complete sense now because he fought in world war 2 and would've had them.

But more importantly.
More damn importantly.
This girl that shared my name.

It just didn't make sense. None of it. These guys could just have the same names because what the hell would Bucky and Steve even be doing in the tower 70 odd years later and not be dead already.

Impossible.
Unless there was a way.....

I headed around the corner to another plaque with the title

CRYO

The more I read on the more I got agitated. Things were fitting together but also to my absolute confusion. I couldn't make sense of all the ideas floating around in my head. My head hurt once more with all the information in there, all the things I'd learnt and all the things I was piecing together.

-Steve Rogers sacrificed his life to save thousands of people when he purposefully crashed his plane into the alps, it originally heading on a B line to New York.
Steven was found and preserved for 70 years by S.H.I.E.L.D, the law enforcement and counter terrorism group executively directed by Nick Fury.
However, when James Barnes was found after plummeting thousands of feet off a train and losing his arm, he was preserved too.
But this time, by HYDRA- the very group James and Steve had been working to disband.
They tortured James and ultimately made him into the Winter Soldier; using Codewords to trigger him into murdering anyone they wanted him to.
James is no longer the winter soldier, after he left HYDRA and travelled to wakanda where he decided to undergo Cryogenics again, removing the code words from his system and making him completely insusceptible to triggering.-

My mouth was wide open by now.
It. Was. Possible

And I had met captain America? And James Barnes had been in the building when nobody had said anything to me about him when I asked them?

And as for me.

I needed to find them. I needed to talk to them.

This was the time where I didn't care about asking my father or F.R.I.D.A.Y, I had to meet them. Ask them why the hell i woke up from a coma with his dog tags in my pocket, because I sure wouldn't have put them there myself before.

But what about the girl? It didn't mention anything about her being frozen. Did she just die of old age after losing her brother and James.

If she was preserved, where was she now?

None of it made sense but at the same time, there was a part in my mind in which everything seemed to.

There was no more information plaques, but just before I left the building, I caught a sight of one of the pictures hung on the wall, labelled Steve Rogers.
A man with...........straw blonde hair.
A man I'd.....
Seen.