Chapter Text
Steve was so overwhelmed. He didn't really know what to do with himself. He spent most of his time in an "old-fashioned" gym, just to make himself feel a little more comfortable.
The last thing he could remember was cold.
Cold. Metal. Crunch. Peggy.
Peggy.
He shook his head, getting his attention back to the bag in front of him. Bucky had always told him that there was no use dwelling on missed opportunity. You'd already missed it, dwell on it and you may miss other things.
Waking up in the future was not what he expected to happen. He felt like Buck Rogers. He loved that comic strip when he was a kid, but it all felt a little too real for him right now. His one consolation, he supposed, was that he had only woken up in the 21st Century, instead of the 25th... although he's not sure why that's any better.
Things were so different in this world. He kept thinking of it as a different world. It felt as if it was some weird alternate dimension; something dreamed up in abstract science fiction novels.
The 'history' Bridget tried to catch him up on just felt like the back story to some new fictional universe.
Bridget.
The small, dark haired, young woman seemed like the only real thing in this alternate reality he'd found himself in.
It was strange. Technically, she was only about two years younger than he was, but, at the same time, he was over sixty years older. It gave him a headache to think about.
But she was genuinely lovely. She didn't treat him like a hero, or like a lab experiment, or like he was stupid for not knowing things. She was patient, honest, and had no issue being sarcastic with him, which he rather enjoyed. Other agents seemed to walk on their toes around him, as if expecting him to break down or perhaps just break things.
A short succession of beeps came from within the confines of his gym bag and he grabbed a towel, wiping his face and hands with it before diving into his bag to retrieve his cell phone. He had quickly gotten used to the thing. He'd picked up new things pretty quickly before he had the serum injected, but, with the serum enhancing every part of him, he now picked up new things at a truly amazing rate.
He had heard older people – which was odd to think, since he had been born before most of those people – complaining about 'young' peoples' addiction to cell phones. However, Steve didn't see what was so bad about it. You could keep in touch with people so easily. And with everything that had happened and all the people he had lost, keeping in touch with people he cared about just seemed like a good thing.
Not that he had many people to keep in touch with at the minute. Bridget was pretty much the only person he called or texted. They texted back and forth several times a day, more if she had to do paperwork, which he quickly learned that she loathed. There had been a few days when she was on mission that she couldn't contact him, and it was then that he had learned just how dependent on her he had become. Not just for what she could teach him, but for her company. Three days without hearing from her and he had missed her like crazy.
And it was crazy. It had been a month since he had woken up. A month since he had met her. And yet, he felt like he had known her forever.
Steve looked down at his cell and saw that he had a text from Bridget.
Hey. Bossman gone to see the boyfriend. Well officially hes gone to get a sitrep from the agents there. Like he cant do that over the phone lol. So I am free for rest of day. You busy?
Steve smiled.
Well, he texted back. I was planning on counting the tiles in my kitchen, but as long as nothing better comes along, I guess I can hang out with you…
She replied quickly.
Oh well, that sounds like fun. Im sorry to drag you away from your thrilling day. I suppose youll just have to put up with me… well, me and several dvds. I decided you need a moviecation rogers! You have a dvd player right?
I do. I've not used it yet, though.
That will soon change my friend. Be there in about an hour ok? Gotta go home and change and grab dvds.
Ok. See you later.
Bridget, true to her word, was at his apartment exactly an hour later. He had had time to get home, shower, and make sure his apartment was clean. That was a habit left over from childhood. His ma was very house-proud. It always did well to make a good impression, she had said, whether you knew your guests well, or not.
"Hey!" she grinned, as he opened the door. She was dressed casually in jeans and a t-shirt depicting a cat with a grumpy expression. Her hair was loose and hung in waves just past her shoulders.
He smiled softly and let her in. She had been to his apartment before. If they wanted to hang out and didn't want to go anywhere, they had used his apartment a couple of times. She was against him coming to her apartment for two reasons, she had told him. Those reasons were Kate McAshton and Darren Wilson; her roommates.
"They're so nosy!" she had complained. "They'll find any reason to be around and just be embarrassing. Trust me, we're better off away."
Bridget set down her bag on the couch and rifled through it, bringing out some DVDs.
"Okay," she said. "I thought we'd start in some sort of semi-chronological order. So I brought Sunset Boulevard, A Streetcar Named Desire, and On the Waterfront." She looked at the covers. "I haven't actually seen any of these, which would probably get me majorly judged by most people. They're supposedly must-see classics," she told him.
"Well, I'd be the last person to judge," he told her, shrugging.
She smiled. "Next time, we're doing Seven Brides for Seven Brothers, The King and I, and Breakfast at Tiffany's, which are some of my favorite movies of all time. And then you can have a turn showing me some movies you like," she suggested. Then she paused before amending, "Although, if you try and make me sit through Gone with the Wind, you and I will no longer be friends."
"You don't like Gone with the Wind?" he asked, surprised.
"That thing is like four hours long!" Bridget exclaimed. "By the intermission, I was thinking it was never going to end! There was still about two hours left! I thought I was going to die."
"Why did you keep watching?" Steve asked, laughing.
"It's Kate's favorite film. She's watched it like a hundred times. She's read the book so much that the pages are falling out of her copy. She made Darren and I watch it once. Just once. I swore that I'd chew my own arm off before I went through that again." Bridget looked up at him, eyes wide, as if she was attempting to share with him the horror that she had felt.
He laughed. "I promise no Gone with the Wind."
"Good," she said, decisively. "'Cos I don't want to think about how you'd explain to Coulson why I'd chewed my own arm off."
"Wait, why would I be explaining?" Steve asked.
"Because Coulson's 'disappointed in you' look makes me want to cry," she explained. "You look tougher than me, you can take it."
He had good days and he had bad days.
On the good days, he felt grateful to have this. A second chance.
On the bad days, days when he woke up feeling cold, remembering Bucky's hand just inches from his own before the fall, seeing the vast expanse of ice ahead of him as he struggled to put the plane down… he picked up his cell phone and made a call.
Bridget was his person.
He knew she wasn't Peggy, or Bucky.
She didn't have to be. He didn't want her to be.
He didn't have to define it. Didn't want to define it right now.
He trusted her.
He knew that after a really horrible day, he could talk to her for a couple of minutes and instantly feel better about the world.
He wasn't sure what to think about that, and honestly, it was probably better if he just didn't think about it at all. It was too confusing.
It was better to let things be.
For now.