Salience (Will be posted on Ao3 maybe)

II| Assembly of Acquaintances

June 12, 2012

<<•>>

The sun was only beginning to rise when Steve Rogers set out from his Brooklyn apartment on his motorcycle. He was dressed simply, in clothes that the younger generations would probably consider bland or tasteless. As much as Steve wanted to care, to learn about the world he'd found himself in, there was no time for that.

His motorcycle sped past some of the morning traffic, but he was careful—as always—to obey the rules of the road, which he'd studied enough to earn a license. S.H.I.E.L.D. had allowed it, given that he took his test with one of their agents, rather than at the Department of Motor Vehicles, or the DMV.

He supposed he was thankful for all they'd done for him. The license, the motorcycle, the apartment. They'd made sure to set him up financially, explaining to him details that he'd never remember about the plastic cards the public used for payment. Instead of worrying, though, he simply made sure to keep his brown leather wallet full of cash.

There were some things he adapted to quickly, like mobile phones. That one in particular was quite useful. Other things, like debit cards and touch screen computers only made his head hurt. But, after so many years, he was most grateful that when he'd woken up, he was able to do so in his own country, with the war having been won.

He drove over over the Brooklyn Bridge, with only a quick glance to the East River below. The water looked cold and dark even on an early morning in June. That could've been his imagination, though. Steve couldn't say he was overly fond of the water. Piloting a plane into the ocean and being frozen solid for over seventy years would have that effect on just about anyone.

He turned his focus back to the road, eyeing the looming buildings of Manhattan as he put the river behind him.

It took about fifteen minutes to make the rest of the trip. His motorcycle cruised down West 43rd and he breathed in the morning air, somehow still polluted with the smell of traffic though there were few vehicles on the road. A lot of the residents of Midtown Manhattan had been forced from their homes, either by total destruction or substantial damage to their buildings. In response, several hotels in the area had been turned into shelters, which kept people safe and out of the way of the emergency services.

Steve came to a stop at the light, which was still without power. He looked both ways before turning, even using his turn signal, which he had installed by choice.

When he pulled around, he saw the station at Times Square in front of him. The police station had been set up as one of the headquarters for the search and rescue efforts being made around the city. This group had been working a vast portion of Midtown Manhattan over the last few days.

Steve propped his motorcycle against the side of the building and hurried up the steps. He let his mind wander as he made the trip to the room they'd been using to coordinate. He knew they weren't asking the volunteers to be in until well after eight, but two hours could mean lives saved. And, if he were being completely honest, he hadn't gotten much sleep anyways.

He found his way into the room as he yawned. "Early start this morning, Steve?" At the sound of the deep, yet unmistakably feminine voice, Steve looked to the far corner of the room. The receptionist, Lana, was sitting at one of the desks, with a phone in her hand and a considerable pile of energy drinks beside her.

"Yes ma'am," the super-soldier said in reply, walking toward the tired woman. When he was close enough, he took the sight of her in. Lana was in no way a young woman, nor was she particularly attractive, with graying hair and chestnut brown eyes. She had a hooked nose and thin lips that naturally drooped into a frown. It was easy to assume she was a dour individual, until little things like the laugh lines around her eyes, and the attempted upturning of her lips became noticeable. "Did the search teams find anyone else last night?"