Chapter Text
Steve didn’t know what he expected when he plunged into the freezing waters of the English Channel. Heaven maybe? Heaven would be nice. Or possibly Hell, since he wasn’t sure how far “thou shalt not kill” went in war. Maybe there was a slim glimmer of hope that he’d wake up in some British hospital, and Bucky would be right down the hall and they’d all be fine.
Waking up drenched in ice water with a sometimes-nazi-alligned norse god and someone who suspiciously resembled Iron Cross wasn’t on that list.
Steve let out a startled yell and attempted to swing his fist at the god’s face. Not a great idea under the best of circumstances, it was proven entirely ineffective when his arm instead flopped weakly against the table.
“Whoa there,” A slightly mechanical voice sounded from Not Iron Cross, though his mouth didn’t seem to move at all, “Don’t hurt yourself.”
Seeing as physical combat was distinctly out of the question, Steve decided to try and get some information.
“Who are you? And where am I?”
“Uhm… well,” Not Iron Cross started uncertainty.
“We’re the Avengers,” responded a strangely dressed woman Steve didn’t remember seeing a moment ago.
“The Avengers?”
It didn’t sound like an Axis name, and everyone had American accents. But then Steve had met saboteurs who made Bucky’s accent sound fake by comparison.
“I knowe it tis hard to bylieve, but it hath byen manie decades synce ye and I last met, captayn,” the Azgardian said.
“Decades?” Steve finally had the strength to sit up fully, and an initial glance at his surroundings seemed to support this idea. They appeared to be in some kind of plane, but there were gadgets lining the walls that Steve couldn’t even dream of a use for. And was that a television? He had seen a few in his time, but they didn’t look anything like that…
Part of Steve wanted to lay down again as the truth of the god’s claim became evident. However that would accomplish nothing so he might as well get up and deal with this. And maybe get some dry clothes.
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Even after the nearly hour long flight to New York, Steve was still struggling to process his new reality. If what these “Avengers” had told him was to be believed- and he was really starting to think it could- then Steve had spent the better part of two decades frozen in ice.
The war was over. He thought he’d be more excited about that. After all, they’d won and it was finally done but… It just didn’t seem possible yet.
The world had changed a lot. Some of it seemed for the better. Some of it… Steve wasn’t really sure.
There was another Captain America. Well, actually there had been several, though Iron man couldn’t tell him how many. It wasn’t unexpected, the government had always meant to have more than one. Steve wasn’t sure about meeting the Avengers’ Captain though.
No one knew much about his friends from the war. Namor was still out there, unfortunately back to warring with the surface. Steve had hoped the Invaders had at least changed that, but it seemed that wasn’t the case. No one had heard of Torch or Toro since the early 50s. Steve hadn’t bothered asking about the British Invaders or the Kid Commandos.
And Bucky… Bucky was gone. He’d been MIA on the same mission as Steve, but the Avengers hadn’t found anyone else in the ice. Also, as the “Iron Man'' had less than tactfully pointed out, Bucky probably wouldn’t have survived the freezing without the super soldier serum.
“Hey, uh Captain?” the woman- she said her name was Janet- stood in the doorway awkwardly, “We’re getting close to New York.”
“I’ll be up in a moment,” Steve grabbed the jacket Giant Man had lent him and headed towards the front of the ship. And wasn’t that amazing? A plane with multiple rooms almost made up for the disappointing lack of flying cars.
“Look, I want to believe it. But there’ve been convincing fakes in the past.”
Steve started at an unfamiliar voice coming from what looked like a supply closet. Frowning, Steve quietly took a few steps back to hear better.
“He had another uniform on. It’s consistent with US military uniforms of the era. And his costume definitely isn’t made with post-war materials,” Iron man responded.
There was a pause before the other voice spoke up again.
“The uniform… was there a name on it?”
“Yeah, ‘Rogers’. Does that mean something?”
“Maybe. Maybe not. I’d like to meet the man when you get back to New York.”
“Well, that won’t be hard. He’s stated an interest in joining the Avengers.”
As the conversation- which must’ve been over those weird television phones that apparently existed now- dropped off, Steve headed up to the bridge. It wouldn’t do to be caught eavesdropping.