The Son of America

Prologue: Missing Ends

The bus screeches to a halt and I step out onto the dirty gravel road. The buttons of my flannel shirt have come under the Brooklyn chill, and I begin to walk towards the house. I've been gone for four years now. College was great, but I had been looking for something...more. Another purpose in life...a better one. I was hoping Dad could help me out with this one. If only I had known.

My first indicator that something was wrong was the door. It was flung open, and barely hanging on its hinges. "What the hell," I whisper. I drop my bags and dash towards the old apartment. Dad had moved back here when he had retired from his "job." I had never known what he and Mom did, only that it was important, and that they did it often. Until Mom died. Dad quit soon after, when I was seven. He never spoke of it, and I would always see strange people dressed in blue coming to the door and bringing up memories that he hated to talk about. I never asked him about it.

I touch the door handle. It was warm...scorching. I was puzzled. I stepped into the center of the living room. It was a mess. Chairs were flipped over, glass broken across the floor. It was a nightmare. I was getting worried. Questions flooded into my head. Stay calm, I think to myself. Its Steve Rogers we're talking about here. He's probably just gone out for milk.

That's when I turn around. Lying in a square cut out of the wall, shining in the sunlight, was Captain America's shield. I had only heard stories about it, and him, and the group known as the Avengers. The Earth's Mightiest Heroes. They had disbanded long ago, so long ago that some people thought they were a myth. But I always believed. Maybe because I was raised listening to the stories, or maybe because I was raised to believe that no matter how much evil was in the world, there would always be good. Or maybe...just maybe...I always believed in those stories because two of the legends were hidden right in front of me.

I walk up to the shield, noticing for the first time a small slip of paper taped to it. "Dear Kent," I read aloud. "I always told you that when you were ready, you'd know all of my secrets. Well here they are."

I crumple the paper in my hand, and look back up at the patriotic shield.

Dad...where are you?