Chapter 2 – Steven Rogers
Weight. That is all I feel, weight. I try to lift my eyelids but it seems impossible. I keep trying until finally, I can pry them open. I immediately take in my surroundings. I am in a bright white room. I look down and see that I am in my old army shirt and khaki pants. I don't remember ever putting these on. All I remember is water and ice. I hear the handle of the door start to turn. I snap my head up to see a woman in a uniform.
"Good morning, or should I say afternoon." She says.
"Where am I?" I ask her. She walks closer to me and places her hands in front of her.
"You're in a recovery room in New York City."
"Where am I really?" I ask, my voice growing darker. I see her shift uncomfortably.
"I am afraid I don't understand." She says, smiling even wider. I can see the lie in her eyes. I think quickly to point out the errors surrounding me.
"The game. It's from May 1941. I know because I was there. And these aren't my clothes. The last thing I remember was crashing a plane into the ice. Now I am going to ask you again, where am I?" I demand, I am angry now. She shifts again, pressing some small device in her hand. She sucks in a deep breath.
"Captain Rogers.."
"Who are you?"
"Captain Rogers, wait," I don't even wait for her to finish, I just take-off running. I run through the wall behind me, the thin fabric ripping with the smallest force. I run through the halls as some kind of alarm goes off. I hear the woman running behind me, her heels clicking on the tile as I run out into the streets, seeing all of these glowing boards with unfamiliar images and words. The world feels like it is spinning around me and I grow dizzy. Scores of soldiers dressed in black tactical gear swarm around me and hold their guns at the ready.
"At ease soldier!" a dark man in a black coat says, emerging from the sea of armed men.
"Captain Rogers," the woman who was in the room says, "I am very sorry about that whole production back there. I just thought it would be better to break it to you slowly."
Rachel POV
"Captain Rogers," I say. He looks at me, his eyes full of sadness and confusion. "I am very sorry about that whole production back there. I just thought it would be better to break it to you slowly."
"Break what?" he asks skeptically. I take a deep breath and step in front of Fury.
"You have been asleep, Captain Rogers, for almost seventy years." My voice shrinks as I tell him. I pull off my tie in defeat and look across the way at him. My face contorts into a sympathetic frown.
"You gonna be okay?" Fury asks Rogers.
"Yeah," he replies. "I just... I had a date."
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