Nico di Angelo and the Avengers

Chapter Three

Nico's POV

I groaned as I began to regain consciousness; my eyes fluttering open to be met with the bright florescent lights over my head. I slowly sat up, my long black shaggy hair falling into my slightly lighter eyes as I scanned the room. I had been placed on a comfy leather couch that wrapped around the up-most left corner of the room. Parallel to me was a large flat screen TV, and just inches away from the center of the couch stood a dark mahogany coffee table. I swung my feet off the couch onto the cold wooden floor, and pulled myself up. My black skull t-shirt clung tightly to my skinny frame as I stretched my arms to restore the blood flow to my hands. I reached inside my pocket of my black skinny jeans for my sword, and my heart dropped. It wasn't here.

My eyes began to dart around the room, the shimmering lights flashing in my dark onyx tinted eyes. I caught sight of a sword on a desk, it's metal black as night and as cold as a cutting winter storm. I rushed over and grabbed a hold of my sword; a feeling of comfort washed over me as I held it in my hands. I turned from the desk, and made my way to a door just off to my right. With a quick twist of my wrist I pulled open the large door, and slipped into a brightly lit hallway. My footsteps made no sound as I slowly moved farther away from the room I had been placed in earlier. I looked towards a door at the end of the hall just to my left, and contemplated opening it, when I was met by the sound of cheerful whistling.

I jumped back away from the door; sword still in hand I got into a fighting stance. Just as the whistler rounded the corner I swung my sword. I just had to hope that whoever I might be impaling really was a bad guy. Otherwise, this might get awkward. There was a clang of metal on metal, and the sound of a bottle being dropped and rolling away. My fierce gaze was met by a shocked one, as I looked into the eyes of one of my captors. It was the beardless man from the park, but now he held a rounded shield with the stars and stripes painted upon the outside.

I jumped back; never breaking eye contact with the man in front of me, "Who are you, and what do you want?" After you've been held captive by giants you don't really take to kindly to being in a similar situation. At least this time I might be able to stay in a comfortable room, and not a jar.

The man slowly lowered his shield, and held his other hand up in the air as if in surrender. Okay, well this is confusing... "My name is Steve Rogers... um you may know me better as Captain America." The man's surrendering hand reached down to rub his neck, as if he found the situation awkward.

"Captain America?" Now I'm really confused.

"Uh yeah.... like from World War II, and when New York was being attacked by aliens... sort of." The man, Steve seemed to find this conversation very odd, and embarrassing seeing as he couldn't look at me.

"But you're not the actual Captain America from World War II, right?" I bit my lip, could he have somehow been stuck in a place like the Lotus Hotel and Casino?

"Actually I am..."

"But you should be old!" Well this is very very odd.

"I know, but I was frozen... in an ice berg for a little while, and when I woke up I was still the same age, and everyone I knew was either dead or old, and the war was over." I felt pain in my heart as I processed his words. He was just like me. He didn't have anyone who knew what it felt like to be so out of place. Then it hit me, I knew this guy!! Not personally, but close enough! 

"I heard about you when I was a little kid. I would sneak down into the living room, and watch your show even though my country was allied with the Germans. I thought it was amazing that America had made a super soldier..." I could see flashes of a faded memory. The black and white screen lighting up the room; the TV was as silent as possible, and I watched in fascination as the American man killed the Germans. He was a hero for America, but for people in Italy he was a source of fear. No one wanted to fight Captain America because they feared for their lives.