Chapter Text
Everything was fine.
Returning the stones was a piece of cake, as speed and some quick thinking was necessary to get into the locations the stones were without being detected.
2012 was the most awkward, as he had to return the scepter back to Brock and Rumlows hands, claiming to have heard something from Fury about running point on it. He then had to get across New York to Bleecker street to return the Time Stone to a pleased bald woman. Presumably, Banner had told her someone was going to return everything.
2013 Asgard was….strange, as Thor did warn him that the stone was liquid and had to be reinjected into Jane Foster.
2014 Vormir.
Tears sprung to his eyes watching Clint mourn the loss of Natasha in what looked like a deep purple pool.
Some selfish part of him wished it was Clint who dropped, so that he had more time with one of his closest friends. She probably would have gotten along great with the other women on the battlefield, leading them against Thanos.
Clint went back to 2023, and Steve began his long trek to the top. Which was cold, windy, steep, and—
Suddenly, the world felt wobbly, as he had briefly seen a glimpse of a woman’s body at the bottom. Blood everywhere.
What would it matter if he was minutes early and cut the wire so that Clint fell?
Some nagging part of his conscience told him the universe would fall apart if he’d done something as drastic as that.
Would Nat even forgive him if he did?
He pushed on, and reached the summit. A lone figure appeared, its face obscured by a dark hood.
“Steven, son of Sarah,” the voice said.
The familiarity of the figure was bone chilling, and sent him back to being on the Valkyrie, loaded with torpedoes, headed for New York. Saying a premature goodbye to Peggy. Nearly freezing to death.
Rogers was shocked. Not many things got to him, but the past couple days had been extremes, to say the least.
Red Skull was alive. One would think that being consumed by flames and screaming would mean that someone is dead, in addition to the beam of white light shooting out the Valkyrie, but this proved otherwise.
He walked past him, stonefaced, stood at the edge of the cliff, and threw the orange stone as far as he could, refusing to look down. Without saying a word, he moved on to the next timepoint.
2014 Morag was simple enough, but it did nearly burn his arm. He didn’t have the same protection Rhodes or Nebula had.
But 1977…..
He was grateful all he had to do was run into the basement and put the tesseract back into holding. Security was more difficult, so he had to modify his disguise. He made a point of avoiding the second basement level, where he got way too close to being spotted by the one person he wanted to avoid.
Considering that he had an extra device,(Bruce insisted on bringing a backup), nothing was stopping him from lingering in the past before going back.
He engineered his device for one final stop.
1948.
Surprisingly, noone noticed him appearing in an alleyway near a telephone office.
Passerby were few and far between, as it was 3 in the morning.
Getting in was simple enough, he hunched over while he walked and went slack jawed, disguising himself without sunglasses. Did aviator sunglasses even exist yet?
He carried the big metal case in his hand, which gave the appearance of someone important.
“Excuse me sir, what’s in the package?”
“It’s classified. ‘Fraid I can’t tell you, but it is for Howard Stark. And its light sensitive, so I don’t think opening it here is safe.”
One of the women clicked her tongue.
“Stark might as well be building Frankenstein's monster down there. Alright, you can go through. You got five minutes.”
Steve breathed a sigh of relief as he un-hunched over in the hallway, alone. Damn perfect posture.
He could see desks out in the open for agents, and separate glass offices, two of them. The smell of fresh paint wafted through the air, and between two windows, lit by some nearby streetlights, he could see the newly painted SHIELD logo.
The case was placed down on one of the desks, protective equipment lifted, to reveal an envelope hed prepared when he caught a second to himself after the battle. He was surprised it survived the trip and was undamaged.
He reached into the desk drawers, pulled out a larger envelope, slid the time travel device, compass (for additional proof it was him) and the letter into it, and went to her office.
Perks of super strength: breaking locks with his bare hands. There was a sharp ‘pop’ noise from the handle, but no glass on the floor to suggest a break in later.
For the most part, her office looked similar to the other one he’d ended up in decades later. This was more like a fishbowl, and seemed freshly moved into as well.
He spotted a placard on her desk, stating her new title as the director of the agency.
Grabbing a pen, he scrawled something on the top that only she’d understand, left the envelope on her desk, and promptly left the building.
That was what he did when he returned the stones, and he retold most of the story to Bruce, omitting the part about the 1948 stop.
That was 3 months ago.