WHITE. That's all I could see. Endless white. Harsh, numbing winds slapping me in the face with flakes of snow as I pushed my way through the biting blizzards, shrouded in a huge puffer jacket. I could barely hear the men around me, shouting to be heard over the blistering, screaming wind.
My name's Isabelle. Isabelle Rogers. Yeah, younger sister of the famous Captain America. And I bet you're wondering, how is she still alive, being born in the mid 30s, the Great Depression? Well, that's for you to find out.
I could feel my lips change from pink to blue, snowflakes embedding themselves in my eyelashes, weighing them down so dramatically I could barely see anything at all. My arms subconsciously wrap around my freezing body, rubbing furiously at each other as my teeth chattered to breaking point.
The only light that could meet my eyes was the red one being held a foot away from my face, being carried haphazardly by the man battling the weather beside me. "Watch where you're pointing that thing." I grumbled, though he couldn't hear me. From the corner of my eye, I could see him raise an arm and wave it wildly in the air, and my eyes snapped to right in front of me. Bright white lights shone from the dark sky, almost blinding us, heading straight for us. My hand automatically lifted to shield my eyes as the source slowed down, its engines barely audible over the howling blizzard.
The trucks stopped a few metres short of us, the lights still glaring at us like opal cat eyes. Both doors struggled to open as two men tried to get out, the wind slamming them shut for them as they waddled towards us. I could feel my facial muscles struggle not to smirk at the sight, despite the numbing cold. "Are you the guys from Washington?" Daniels yelled from beside me, earning an eye roll from me.
"You get many other visitors out here?" One of the men joked, bundled up in fur-trimmed snow gear, as his friend finally decided to join us, moving a lot slower than the first guy. It was so dark from the snow, that I couldn't make out many of their features.
"Well, Agent Rogers arrived earlier, from S.H.I.E.L.D. Its quite the discovery." Daniels replied, rotating his head to look at me. My eyes are drawn to the setting sun as my lips lifted into an irresistible smile.
"Yes, well, Fury did tell you to alert me if you found anything." I clarified, before turning back to face them.
"How long have you been on-site?" The other man asked, as we began to walk away from the vehicles, trudging through thick snow that stuck to our boots, heading towards something we couldn't see.
"Since this morning." Daniels called, desperately holding onto his thick hood as the wind threatened to blow it clean off his coat. "Rogers arrived two hours ago." He added, nudging me with his stick-free arm.
"Three." I found myself muttering under my breath. "You just ignored me for the first."
"A Russian oil team called it in about 18 hours ago." Daniels continued, oblivious to my correction.
"How come nobody spotted it before?" The second man shouted over the wind, snowflakes sticking like spider's web on his unshaven stubble.
"It's really not that surprising." I replied, as Daniels opened his mouth to respond. The others looked at me with raised eyebrows, which made me subsequently exhale in annoyance. "This landscape's changing all the time. I thought everyone knew that."
"Right," The first man replied, as my eyes were drawn back to the setting sun. It was breathtaking. An orb of gold still visible in the sky, despite everything above us being shrouded in charcoal grey clouds, still bright enough for us to comfortably see without burning through our eyes. "You two got any idea what this thing is exactly?"
"I don't know." The second man responded before any words could lift off my tongue. "It's probably a weather balloon."
"You wouldn't have called me out here if you thought that it was a weather balloon." I pointed out, looking at Daniels out of the corner of my eye.
"Well, Fury did tell me to alert you if we found anything..." Daniels sniped, as if I were a thorn in his side. Oh please, does he realise how annoying I could get? Apparently not. "And anyway, I don't think so. Not a weather balloon. It's bigger. A lot bigger."
"You know, we don't have the equipment for a job like this." The first man denoted, looking at us concernedly.
"How long before me can start craning it out?" The second man counteracted the first, ignoring his previous statement.
"I don't think you quite understand." Daniels began, as we began to reach it. "You guys are gonna need one hell of a crane."
My eyes met something sticking out of the icy ground, surrounded by people with red light sticks. One man stood at the summit, holding an icy blue torch, shining it on the discovery. My hand fisted inside my pocket for the image Fury had given me when I had left headquarters, displaying the Valkyrie. The plane that had gone down, taking my brother with her. I felt the tears start to freeze in my eyes, burning them for something so cold. My other hand lifted to wipe them away as the first brought out the sheet of folded paper. It began to unfold with the wind, and I instantly began to see similarities between the wing shapes, although obviously the one in front of me was covered in chunks and shards of ice.
"Well?" Daniels looked at me expectantly, trying to restrain himself from ripping the photo from my hands to look at himself. "Is it? Or did we call you out here for no reason?"
"It's a match, or as close a one as we will find." I clarified, lifting my head back up to the wing. One of the men beside us slowly took off his frosted over glasses in amazement, gazing at the sight. Two realisations spread like butter over me, one being that we had found him, the other...
Frantically, my feet pushed me up toward the wing of the fallen bird, my hand scrabbling for anything solid to hold onto to help me up. The man at the top grabbed my hand, smiling sincerely as he helped to pull me to the top.
"You seem eager." He pointed out, chuckling as he spoke. Despite the pit that was growing deep in my stomach, my lips still lifted in a wide smile.
"I'm getting closure to an almost lifelong mystery. I... I just want to know what exactly happened to him." I addressed him, as I climbed up to the top.
"Are you his granddaughter then?" The man asked. I shook my head, gazing at the ice beneath our feet, a rusted image of a skull with tentacles meeting my eyes, my stomach flipping as memories screamed through my head.
"No. His sister."
The man began to laugh as my head lifted back up to face him. His laugh became more awkward as he began to realise the truth behind my words.
"You're not joking? Why do you look so... so..." He stumbled, studying my face through the blowing snow.
"It's a long story." I sighed, walking over to a group of people using some heavy machinery to lift up a large laser.
"Is this how we're getting in?" I enquired, nodding my head at the high tech monster as they pushed it into position.
"Yeah." A woman replied, turning to face me with her gloved hands still on it. "What's gonna happen is it's gonna cut a circle in the metal, allowing us to get a closer look inside."
"And it won't harm him if he is inside?" The woman looked to one of the others around us before answering.
"It shouldn't do... as long as he isn't directly underneath it..." She finally answered, turning back to me. There was no way that I couldn't detect the uncertainty that was laced around her tongue like a dangerous thread.
"Well then... be careful." I spoke hesitantly, folding my arms in front of me again. One of them handed me a thick pair of protective goggles, and I nodded as I took them. My hands reached to pull down my hood as it battled against the wind, itching to slap me in the back of the head as hard as it could as I put them on. The laser lowered and an icy green beam shot out, searing into the frigid metal. It rotated quickly, etching a circle big enough to fit five of us snugly through the diameter. As it cut further into the smooth material, my heart rose upwards towards my throat, creating a lump that I could not swallow back down. Nervously, I bit down on my lip until the metallic taste of blood met my tastebuds, lacing my mouth distastefully.
Then all of a sudden, the cut chunk of metal dropped inwards, with a hollow, heavy clunk following it, snow falling softly in its wake. I peered into the once mighty bird, with only darkness meeting my eyes.
"Rogers, you may want to step back whilst we get the abseiling gear ready." Daniels belittled, as if understanding what I was thinking.
"I wasn't gonna jump." I lied. "I'm not that stupid."
"Then stand back from the hole. For a second I thought you were actually going to jump in." He yelled over the wind, turning to grab us both a harness each.
"So did I." I whispered, looking at my snow boots as he walked towards me.
"What?" He asked, as he handed me one of the harnesses he was holding, not hearing what I had said.
"Doesn't matter." I smirk, although inside I'm sick with nerves. My fingers fumble as I put on the leather harness, feeling the frozen metal buckles through my thick gloves, so much so that Daniels has to help me attach myself to the rope in order to lower me into the Valkyrie. "Thanks." I mutter, not meeting his eyes.
"Are you alright?" He asked softly, trying to meet my eyes.
"Yeah, why wouldn't I be?" I smiled back, though I felt like throwing up.
"Well, you're an assassin who can't attach her own harness properly. Something is wrong. I doesn't take a genius to see." He smirked, although he sounded concerned.
"Put yourself in my shoes. You wouldn't be feeling the way I'm feeling now?" I responded, confused at his sudden niceness. Daniels always met me with cocky attitudes and snide remarks, always trying to one-up me.
"Probably the exact way you are. Except I would be able to hide it better." He grinned at me cockily, holding the rope taut in one hand and twanging it with the other. There we go. I rolled my eyes, and turned back towards the hole.
"I'm going in first." I ordered, and the sound of Daniels scoffing met my ears over the hungry wind.
"Thought you wouldn't have it any other way." He sniped as I stood at the edge of the hole. I clutched onto the rope as I was lowered in, taking in the eeriness of the plane. You could hear the sound of my boots echoing as they touched the metal floor in the windless chamber. I hastily untied the rope from my harness and tugged it once before they pulled it back up. The absence of the wind didn't warm me up even a little bit, though now I could see the dense fog that travelled with my breath. I didn't even notice Daniels standing right behind me, breathing the same mist over my shoulder.
"Coulson, we're in." I whispered into my earpiece.
"What is this place?" Said one of the men from before, shining his flashlight around.
"The Valkyrie." I whispered, brushing my fingertips across a snow topped table.
"Wow." Daniels breathed, taking in the sights around us as the others made their way inside. "I can't believe Captain America was in here seventy years ago. Are you sure this isn't a modernised prototype that crashed near him?"
"Peggy told me to look for the Hydra symbol on the tip of the wing. I found it. This is the right one."
"You are going to trust a senile old lady, who's memory is failing her?" He questioned, raising his eyebrows.
"Ok, one: she's not senile, two: you insult her again and you won't get away with your life, and three: I trust her more than I trust you. I know what I saw, we're in the right place." I argued, defensively. No one insults Peggy in front of me; she showed me that I could do anything despite when I grew up and the social standards back then. She's my hero. And you never insult someone's hero.
"Yeah, well, you don't trust me at all." He muttered, shining his flashlight around the vehicle.
"Exactly." I reached onto my utility belt and picked up my own flashlight, flicking the switch and watched as the periwinkle light erupted from the bulb, dancing on the metal interior structures, making the ice and frost glisten and light up. I moved down to the cockpit, careful not to slip on the icy floor. Snow littered the floor and controls, and created a powdery cushion on the pilot's seat. I could tell that the others were following me as I approached the control panels, my heart beating rapidly, as if it was about to burst from my chest.
"Careful." He spoke, as I slipped slightly on the ice, and regained my balance. My feet moved automatically towards the control panel, as if distant from my mind, as if they were drawn towards there. I angled my flashlight so that it shone on an obscurely shaped block of ice, and something caught my attention.
Some red. Some white. Some blue.
I squatted down and ran my gloved hand across the frosty surface, trying to see it more clearly.
"Agent? What is it?" Daniels asked, approaching me from behind, looking over my shoulder.
"Coulson, bring the quinjet. Now. And alert Fury." I ordered, ignoring the man behind me.
"It's 3:00 a.m., Rogers." He yawned, sounding exhausted.
"Coulson, I couldn't care less what time it is right now. My brother's been waiting long enough. And so have I. Bring lots of blankets. He's gonna need them." I argued, brushing away at more snow on top of the shield, searching for his body.
"I'll send Romanoff with me. She's bound to be awake by now."
"Hurry." I urged, turning to the men behind me. "Go and grab some heaters and heating wands, and an extra harness." They nodded, before hurrying off towards the opening in the ceiling we had come from.
"Moment of truth, I guess." Daniels grinned, kicking at the floor lazily like a schoolboy, hands even in his pockets.
"Well, it can never be a proper moment with you around, can it?" I muttered, sweeping snow off of my brother until I found the back of his head, when the largest lump yet got clogged in my throat, fighting against being swallowed down. I could barely breathe, my lungs appeared not to work. "And it's lasting a bit too long, where are they at with those heaters?"
"They're here! They're here." Cried a boy, sliding over on the ice, heating wands in hand. He held them out eagerly in front of me, grinning from ear to ear. I smiled back slightly as I took them from him. Daniels peered at him, squinting his eyes in the eerie light.
"Aren't you a little young to be working here, kid?" He interrogated. I felt my eyes study the boy as well, how his winter coat shrouded his tall and gangly figure, how his chestnut hair flopped over his eyes like a bearded collie, how the freckles on his face screamed youth like a rock concert.
"My dad brought me along for work experience." He explained, as my fingers clicked a button, turning the wands on. Red light glowed from the wand, warmth surging from from the baton. My stomach twisted and contorted with nerves as I lowered it towards the huge block of ice that clutched mercilessly around him. Tears filled my eyes as I watched it begin to melt, dripping lazily down onto the frigid floor and freezing once again. My arm lowered and held the heating wand by the base of the block, and the ice began to melt once more. Daniels knelt beside me, a couple more in his hands, and started to help eradicate the ice that encapsulated Steve.
"Hey Rogers, we're about 2 hours away from you guys tops. You think you can get the Captain out by then?" Natasha's voice filled my ears over the buzzing sounds of the heating wands.
"May need some help. It's taking a while to unfreeze him." I shivered, careful not to let the slush soak through my clothes.
"Alright, that's not a problem."
"Thanks Nat." My teeth chattered as I pushed my words out, shifting one of the wands closer to my body.
"Elle, just make sure you don't freeze as well. Can't have you dying of hypothermia before the Captain wakes up." Natasha joked, and a snort erupted from within me.
"If he does wake up." I muttered, shaking my head as if to rid those destructive thoughts from my brain.
"Probably best not to think like that."
"Yeah, you're right." I admitted, moving both heating wands over the ice, the red glow dancing on the melting slush.
<><><><>
I struggled to keep my eyes open, it was so cold. The numbness that had started in my toes had spread throughout my body, and I was almost sure that my teeth had shattered from the amount they were chattering for. I didn't even notice at first when Daniels took the wands out of my hands, switched them both off, and replaced them with a steaming flask of hot chocolate. My chin lifted in confusion, my eyes studying his own. "Relax. It's hot chocolate. Can't have you freezing up like your brother; we don't have enough power for that as well."
"Thanks." I replied, gingerly taking a sip, and allowed the velvety liquid unfold on my almost frozen tongue, hissing slightly at the heat. Daniels folded his arms and furrowed his eyebrows, looking at me carefully. I took another sip and swallowed, raising my eyebrows at him. "What?" I asked, shifting on the cushioned seat I had been given earlier.
"You're not used to people being kind to you, are you?" He responded, tilting his head to one side, picking up one of the wands and began heating what was left of the ice once more.
"It's... it's been difficult." I replied after a while, clutching the flask in my lap.
"You want to talk about it?" He pushed, chipping away at the ice around the shield.
"I'm not the most open person you'll meet. Things... happened... and it's not something I wish to revisit." I uttered, looking over my shoulder as the sound of someone entering the Valkyrie met my ears. "I thought you said you'd be 2 hours?" I smirked, watching a red-headed woman dressed in black snow gear strut over to us.
"I said 2 hours tops. How's it looking?" She replied, nodding at Steve slumped ass up over the control panel.
"We can now move him around, as you can see." Daniels responded before I could, waving one of Steve's limp, frozen arms wildly in the air. I shot him a deadly look, and he instantly dropped it back down.
"Ok then. I've asked the guys up there to make the hole bigger cause I've brought a rescue stretcher with me." She told us, bending down and inspecting Steve's face, looking carefully at the icicles hanging from his nose and eyebrows. Something in her emerald eyes changed; I don't know what, but they seemed different. Yearning, almost.
Probably imagined it, right?
"Great. That'll make getting him up there and into the jet a lot easier." I voiced, prising the shield from my brother's hand and turning it over in my own.
"That was my thinking." She muttered, as the sound of falling metal echoed through the bird. "That'll be the hole growing." She pointed out, not looking over her shoulder as she tried to flip him onto his back.
"No shit, Sherlock." Daniels muttered, picking up the wands and standing up. It took almost everything in my to refrain from punching him in the gut.
"Allow me." I offered, helping Nat shift Steve over. He flopped onto the control panel, and I placed the shield on my back as Nat lifted one of his arms around her shoulder. I copied with the other one, and we heaved him up, struggling slightly under the weight of his muscular body. My arm lifted to hold onto his back, and my other hand clasped onto his fingers, frozen blue from 70 years in the ice. We stumbled towards the opening, icy blue light pouring in like a waterfall, snowflakes dancing in the air from the blizzard outside. "Remind me why we never do missions in the snow?" I panted, taking in the unusual beauty.
"Do I need to?" She uttered, giving me side eyes as we stopped by the stretcher, dangling in the air at our hips by a thick rope.
"But it's so beautiful." I whined, gesturing at the circular beam of snow-flaked light, as we lowered Steve to the ground.
"And that's one of the reasons." She smirked, moving to his side and I to the other, bending down to pick him up by the legs and arms. "You get easily distracted."
"Ok, not all the time." I pointed out, heaving my body upwards in sync with hers, tugging my big brother into the air with a great chunk of my strength. Natasha just smirked in response and rolled her eyes.
"Ok then, how about I list all the times you have?" She joked, as we slid Steve onto the stretcher, tossing me a strap for me to secure.
"Please don't, I get the point." I pleaded, shaking my head as I buckled him in, laughing. Natasha tugged at the rope suspending him in the air, and he slowly lifted up, disappearing through the hole. We stepped into our harnesses, and pulled them up. Daniels stepped over and held a heating wand to each of us, waving them slowly over the buckles, melting away the ice and frost. As he pulled away again, I nodded in appreciation. The rope fell back into the hole, missing my head by a few inches. This time, as i tied myself onto the rope, my hands moved like clockwork, tying the knot with ease. Gently, I tugged at the rope, and my body was lifted up into the air. I prayed that the shield wouldn't slip off my back, that Steve would be alright.
My head emerged from the hole, my shoulders followed, and my eyes darted around for him. They were fixated on a beautiful jet just 50 metres from us, where four men were pulling a sled, hunched over slightly as they pulled it inside. The rope pulling me upwards stopped, and my toes gingerly gripped the surface of the wing through my thick snow boots. I shifted my weight so that I was fully standing on the wing, and hastily untied the rope from my harness, dropping it towards Natasha, who was still inside the Valkyrie with Daniels. "Go." She reassured me, nodding her head as she tied the rope to her harness without looking down at it.
"No, not without you." I shook my head. She nodded, and tugged on the rope. She lifted into the air quickly, snowflakes floating in the air around her, trickling into the huge jet underneath my feet.
"God, you're so dramatic sometimes." She smirked as she emerged from the sunken plane, stepping onto the wing and untying the rope from her person.
"I know." I sighed, undoing the harness fastening and stepping out of the leather rings, Natasha doing the same. I knelt down to picked them up, straightening back up, and dropped them into an already existing pile. Nat placed a hand on my shoulder, smiling reassuringly. I felt myself returning it as we began to walk towards the Quinjet, clutching the hoods of our coats as the wind fought against us.
Once we had stepped inside the jet, I pressed the button to close the door, watching it shut on the icy wasteland outside. Warm air circled around my cheeks, ruddy from the cold. As I turned around, Coulson pressed a cup of coffee into my gloved hands, and I sipped the bitter liquid. My face scrunched at the taste and he laughed. "Need milk?" He asked, walking over to the mini fridge.
Yes, I said mini fridge. We aren't savages.
"And sugar." I answered, moving to the seat beside Steve, who was lying under a mountain of blankets on a bed.
"You wouldn't prefer a sweetener?" He checked, handing me some little capsules of milk. I shook my head as I placed down my mug, taking off my thick winter gear.
"Can't. They make me sick." I replied, pulling my hair over my shoulder as I unzipped my hoodie, leaving me in a charcoal tank top vest. I slowly ripped off the tops of the capsules and pouring the milk into my steaming mug. Coulson tossed a couple of assorted sugar packets onto the table beside me where my mug stood. My fingers tore the tops off and I emptied them in, and took a sip.
"Better?" He queried, sitting opposite me as Natasha took the seat beside me. I nodded in response, and my eyes fell onto my unconscious brother. He was ghostly pale, as if he lay on Death's door, his skin littered with blue tinges. Icicles hung from his nose, chin, and ears, and his hair and eyebrows were covered in small icy chunks. It sickened me to see him this way. I felt Nat place a comforting hand on my back, and I looked up. Coulson caught my eyes, and it had appeared that he had caught hers as well.
"Are you alright, Coulson? You look like you're gonna swoon." She smirked, and the corners of my mouth curled up in a smile as I looked down and shook my head.
"Hey, that's my brother!" I smiled, playing along. I turned to look at Nat, mug back in my hands as I took another sip. "One down, one to go?"
"She's probably dead." She muttered, looking away.
"We don't know that." I reasoned, touching her arm.
"It's the most likely outcome after what had happened." Her voice broke a little as she spoke. I could feel her pain and guilt radiating from her and coursing its way through my veins.
"She's stronger than that. You remember she was stronger than that." I reminded. "What was it that Мама told us?"
"She wasn't our mother. She let him hand us over to that monster." Natasha snarled, stepping away and turning her back, her arms folded tightly across her chest.
"Fine. What was it that Vostokoff told us? Pain only makes us stronger. Lena would've followed those words. She never knew that it wasn't real, that it was all a ruse."
"Can we drop this? Please? I don't want to hear another word on the subject." She interrupted forcefully, and I obliged. Coulson just stared at each of us in confusion, opening his mouth to speak.
"Don't." I mouthed silently, shaking my head at him. He nodded, standing up and glancing back down at my older brother.
"Shall we get moving? Don't want to be in the air if he wakes up." He voiced, changing the subject.
"Sounds like a good idea?" I agreed, looking sincerely at Natasha. She nodded curtly, turning back around to face us. A toxic feeling formed in the pit of my stomach knowing how I had struck such a sensitive nerve in her.
"Romanoff? Wanna help me pilot this thing again?" Coulson offered, gesturing to the seat beside the one he was currently taking up. Natasha made no response, but made her way over to the co-pilot seat and sat down, putting on the relevant headset.
"Nat, I'm sorry." I apologised, looking over at her as I gently placed a hand where Steve's arm was.
"I thought I said to drop the subject." She retorted, not looking over her shoulder. I looked back down, remaining silent, gently stroking Steve's arm with my thumb, not uttering a word for the rest of the flight.
<><><><>
I sat in a small surveillance room, the walls viridian green, the floors grey. In front of me was a television connected to a bunch of wires that were scattered over the desk where the television stood and were dangling down that a waterfall of contained electricity. I had barely left the room since we had arrived a few days ago, watching the tv that was displaying a 1940s inspired room. Lying on a metal frame bed in army training uniform was Steve, alive but asleep.
They hadn't listened when I had told them it wasn't the best idea for him to wake in this environment.
I could hear the faint buzz of a baseball game over the radio in his room. No clear words, just white noise. He looked so peaceful, just lying there, as if nothing had happened, as if... everything had gone back to normal. If such a thing ever existed.
"How's he looking?" Fury queried, walking into the room, hands in his front pockets, his one eye glued to the screen in front of us.
"Still asleep." I answered, not looking at him. He stopped just to my right and placed a hand on my shoulder. I turned to him, surprised.
"Not a word to anyone." He spoke in response, and I nodded. I had heard rumours that Fury wasn't as, well... you know how he is. But that's all I thought they were, rumours.
He went to leave, but I held up a finger, noticing a change on the screen. Steve had woken. My eyes widened and my vision blurred with tears as he looked slowly around the room. Fury stopped and leaned to get a closer look. He took his other hand out of his pocket, holding onto a walkie-talkie. "Agent, he's awake." He informed someone on the other end.
"On it, Director." Came a feminine voice.
"Remind me why I'm not going in first?" I questioned, raising an eyebrow at him.
"Well, he'd be shocked as you would've aged about 16 years since you were taken." He replied, tearing his eye from the screen to look at me.
"And this wouldn't have?" I argued. It infuriated me that none of them would listen. Natasha would've, but she was over France, undercover, having left not long after we had returned. My eyes darted back to the screen, where Steve was now sitting up on his bed, an expression of confusion engraved in his face. His head darted towards the window, and then towards the radio, and I bit my knuckles.
I knew this. I had lived this. Having woken up in a different day and age with it being covered up. A few months before being given the mission. This was why I didn't want Steve to go through this. But no one listened. Why would they?
"Good morning." Spoke the woman from Fury's walkie-talkie, walking in from the corner of the television. I couldn't help but roll my eyes at her outfit, mimicking that from the 40s, exactly the same as Peggy's. Hell, even her hair was sprayed to perfection.
"What? She doesn't look the part?" Fury humoured, and I scoffed.
"Too much so." I muttered, shaking my head.
"Or should I say afternoon?" She continued, checking the watch on her wrist. I could see Steve studying her, trying to work out what was going on, knowing that it wasn't right.
"Where am I?" He asked, his eyes blank, his eyebrows furrowed.
"You're in a recovery room in New York City." The woman responded calmly. Steve's eyes darted back to the window behind him, his head following, before looking back at the radio.
"Where am I really?" He questioned more sternly, his voice low and yet his physicality showed no signs of any form of hostility. Memories flooded through my brain from when this had been me. One tear slipped down my cheek, but my hand lifted to wipe it away before Fury could notice.
"I'm afraid I don't understand." The woman replied, keeping her voice fresh and breezy.
"The game." He answered, and my stomach dropped.
"Which baseball game did you use?" I asked the director, glancing at him from the corner of my eye, but before he could answer, voices continued to come from the screen in front of us.
"It's from May 1941. I know, 'cause I was there. With my sister."
"You used that one?! Not one from after the war? Not even from 1945?" I fumed. I remember it, that day. Bucky had lifted me onto his shoulders so that I could see over the vast crowds. I had just turned 4 that year. He had offered to pick Steve up on his back but Steve had laughed and said no.
The woman had grown quiet as Steve slowly stood up. "Now, I'm going to ask you again." Steve threatened, walking towards her. "Where am I?" A little alarm went off in Fury's hand, and he nudged me, turning away from the screen.
"Come on. We need to move." He spoke gruffly, jogging out of the room. I followed him, glancing at Steve in the tv as I left the room.
"All agents, code 13! He's made a run for it. Looks like he's headed outside." The woman panted into Fury's handset, and he lifted it to his face.
"On it. Bringing Agent Rogers with me." He replied, as we made it to the stairs. I sat down on the banister and slid down, Fury doing the same just behind me.
"I repeat. All agents code 13!" The woman called through the handset as we made it outside. I spotted him running towards the road and I sprinted towards him. Fury held me back a little, and I tugged my arm out of his grip. Steve stopped, staring all around him like a deer caught in headlights.
"At ease, soldier!" He called to my brother. Steve stopped and turned around, panting as he stared at Fury, and then his eyes fell on me. Something changed in the way he looked at me, his eyebrows furrowed, searching for what it was that made me so familiar. We walked towards Steve, cars surrounding him from behind. "Look, I'm sorry about that little show back there, but we thought it best to break it to you slowly." Steve looked at him in confusion, before glancing back at me momentarily.
"Break what?" He asked, fear creeping in.
"You've been asleep, Cap." Fury replied bluntly. "For almost 70 years." Steve looked around at all of the busy streets around us, all of the busy lights and displays showing colourful adverts and videos for all to see. There was no way to describe the way he felt, but I knew it all too well. Pain filled me as I took a step towards him. Steve shook his head as he looked up around him. "You gonna be okay?" Fury asked, when Steve had glance behind him.
"Yeah." He replied after a while. "Yeah, I just... I had a date." He took another look at me, realisation finally kicking in. "Isabelle?" I nodded silently.
"I'm here." I whispered, walking slowly towards him. Gently, my arm lifted and I placed my hand on his muscular arm. He wrapped both of his arms around me, and I felt almost home.
꧁𒊹︎꧂ ꧁𒊹︎꧂ ꧁𒊹︎꧂
Hey guys! Another fanfic from me! Sorry it's taken so long, school just loves to bombard me with so much homework, and I've got exams this year, and I just couldn't really find the time to write much.
Hope you guys enjoyed this chapter, and let me know what you think happened to Elle that she doesn't want to talk about, and why she appears so young, like Steve.
If you guys could vote for your favourite chapters, and comment on them, then that would be great!
Right, love you all 3000!! Xx