Meeting The Other: Captain America

Prologue

Steven Grant Rogers learned about the process of Companions and Others when he was ten, like every kid in the fifth grade. It had been a long time since then.

Fifteen years, to be precise.

That was how long Steve had been waiting for the Companion showed up and for his to leave. That never happened. Grant showed up when Steve was a baby, and the golden eagle was little more than a ball of juvenile feathers and loose down. The bird was with him for so long that Steve was starting to dread the day he would go to find his Other.

That day never came.

When Steve joined the army, Grant went with him. He saw the looks, the pity and confusion when people found out.

Grant didn't like it when Steve showed interest in Peggy - a lovely, strong woman whose Other had died, leaving her with her own Russian Blue and his name on her calf as a reminder of the loss - always ruffling his feathers and squawking irritably. God forbid Peggy try to touch Grant; no fingers were safe, then.

It had been so long without any indication that he even had an Other anymore, that Steve started to believe that she just didn't exist. Maybe she died.

Steve didn't like that thought.

Then he became Captain America. Grant stayed with him.

Man, he loved that bird.

The day he went down, he had told Grant to stay at the base, like he normally does for missions.

He talked to Peggy as he fell, and apologized to Grant, knowing he'd be nearby.

As he hit the water, he had one thought, to his Other.

I'm sorry.

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Steve woke up in a room that looked normal. The radio was playing, and that was fine, but there was something wrong about it. Then he realized he remembered that game.

He had been there.

There was also something else strange. As he looked around, he realized Grant was not there. Where was his friend? As he swung his feet over the edge of the bed, he feet touched something soft, that groaned at the contact. He looked down. A young wolf, with fur in various shades of brown, lay stretched out next to his bed on the floor.

His heart pounded in his throat.

It can't be.

One beautiful brown eye, warm with sleepy irritation looked at him. Slowly, she stood, stretched, and sat on her haunches to look at him.

"Hello." He paused and looked at her. "What's your name?"

The wolf came towards him and nuzzled at his wrist. He looked at it and his heart skipped a beat as a disbelieving smile stretched across his face. There, on the inside of his wrist, in a messy mix of printing and cursive, the name Abeline was scrawled in black.

"Oh my goodness." He reached out with both hands, and pet the canine, scratching her head and neck, showering her with his excitement and happiness. She licked his face in return and whined happily.

Then, a woman in a skirt-suit walked in, telling him he was in New York. Steve didn't believe that and Abeline growled, raising her hackles.

When he ran, Abeline followed him.

When he joined and fought with the Avengers, Abeline followed him, though she was a bit too fond of Tony for Steve's liking.

She sat or slept nearby while he pounded sandbag after sandbag in the gym, no matter the hour.

Ran beside him on jogs in the early morning - no matter the fact that she was not a morning person.

Cuddled him in bed when he had nightmares.

Held up conversations surprisingly well for an animal.

Sure, Steve missed Grant, but man, he loved this wolf.