Justice: Captain America The First Avenger

I Thought I Died

Wake up.
I let out a soft groan as the sunlight grazes across my cheek, spreading warmth on my face.
Wake up. 
An irritated groan escapes my throat as I turn over on my other side.
"Albert," I mumble as I reach my hand out for my cat Albert Einstein, "Einstein." 
My face scrunches in disappointment from the absence of soft fur by my torso. 
Wake up.
My eyes fly wide open the same time I let out a gasp and sit up straight. My heart beats violently in my chest as I stare straight across. Where am I? The sound of soft 40s music plays in the background while I silently start to regain my breathing. Okay, calm down. Sunlight shined through a gap in the curtains, allowing me to be able to see. But wait, I thought I died. I was shot. And Erik. Oh poor Erik. What happened to him? I promised to be there for him. I glance down at my body and find myself in an ankle length, white silk nightgown with a deep v-neck.
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What the hell? I grab the bottom of the nightgown and lift it up above my waist. There on my stomach was a white cloth wrapped around, with some blood barely stained through. I didn't get shot in a fatal area. I push the blankets away from my body and place my bare feet onto the floor, pushing myself off the bed. My eyes find a pair of slippers and I slip my cold feet into them. A mirror sits at the corner of the room and I go towards it, gasping at the sight of my reflection. My pixie cut has grown into a bob.
(The picture on top is how her hair looks now) 
How long has it been? I look behind me and clamp my hand over my mouth as a scream tries to escape my throat. My wings, they're gone. I turn around and cran my neck to see my back through the reflection. My fingers run over the empty area where my wings used to be. No scars, just normal skin. Where the hell did my wings go? I tear my eyes away from my reflection and find an armchair with a dark blue velvet robe draped over it. Wait, where are my things? I slip on the robe and tie it, making sure to cover my chest.
(The robe that she's wearing is on the top)
Okay, now I need to find out where I am. I go towards the window and slightly push open the curtains. 
"Holy feces." I mumble with wide eyes as I see a big courtyard with a pool in the middle. 
"What the actual hell." I whisper as I close the curtains. 
I swear my life is getting weirder and weirder. Please don't tell me I've been taken by a pimp. I turn around and look for something that I can use as a weapon. I walk towards a dresser and open the drawers, searching through a bunch of vintage things. My fingers finally wrap around something sharp and I pull out an antique hair pin with a pointy end. Closing the drawer, I stick the pin through my sleeve and head towards the door. Okay, now stay very quiet. I carefully open the door and close it behind me. I walk out straight and let out a slight gasp as I see the entrance hall with the stairs leading down. I have to admit. This place is gorgeous. I walk down the stairs and admire the mansion, and at the same time, look out for any person. My breathing becomes shallow as I take the pin out of my sleeve and clutch it in my right hand. With my hand behind my back, I quietly walk towards the sound of the music and what looks like the living room. I press my body against the wall that leads to the opening of the living room and slowly slide towards the entrance. Once I reach the edge, I slightly peek into the living room to find a man sitting in a chair in front of the fireplace, reading a magazine. Good, his back is turned. I crouch towards the ground and roll towards the man, stopping by the back of the chair. I slowly creep up the chair and grab the man, pressing the pin against his neck. 
"Jesus!" He breathes out.
"Don't move. You are going to explain. Understand?"
"Alright." He chokes out as he puts down the newspaper. 
I release the pin from his neck and walk around the chair to get a better look at him.
"Goodness gracious lady." He tells me with an exasperated tone once he looks at me.
Great. He does look like a pimp. But why does he look so familiar?
"Tsk tsk, Anastasia. That's some way to treat a man who just saved your life." He tells me with a smirk. 
"Shut up. You went through my things didnt you? Now, who the hell are you?" I snap as I sit down on a chair across him. 
"Howard Stark." 
"Howard Stark? The Howard Stark?" I say with a bit surprise.
"Well of course darling. The one and only." He gestures to himself with a smirk.
"Shut your mouth, I just remember seeing you on the interernet, I mean papers, that's all. And don't call me darling. Now where are my things?"
"They're in a safe place, I promise." 
"And who dressed me?" I narrow my eyes at him with a scowl.
"Jeepers, lady. A female friend of mine. Trust me, it wasn't me. But I must say, you do look great in that." He smiles as he points to the robe I'm wearing. 
I roll my eyes at his comment and lower my guard down, "where am I?"
"Richford, New York"
"New York? But I was in Germany." I mumble in slight confusion. 
"One of my colleagues found you laying on the bank of a river. You were knocked out and about to die. I offered to nurture you back to health." 
"Well thanks, I guess. What year is it?"
"Jeez lady. How do you not know what year it is." He looks at me as if I'm crazy. 
"Look mister. You're really going to piss me off" 
"Piss you off?" He furrows his brows at me with a look of confusion.
"Just tell me the year god damn it!" I shout at him as I point the pin at him again . 
"Its 1942! Jesus lady, you're nuts!" 
1942. 1942. God damn. 
I get up from my seat and walk towards a window in frustration with my arms crossed over my chest as I look at the city buildings in the background. 
I really am stuck here. 
"Hot damn, you're worse than Peggy." 
"Who's Peggy?" I scrunch my face as I turn to look at Howard.
"I'm Peggy. I believe we haven't met." 
I follow the sound of the British accent and find a woman with curly brown hair and 40s attire walking towards Howard. 
"Aah. Anastasia, this is Peggy." Howard gestures to her as she rests her hands on the back of his chair. 
"Margaret Elizabeth Carter. But I like to go by Peggy. Don't worry, I'm the one who dressed you. I couldn't have this creep of a man do it."
"Geez, thanks for the compliment Peg." Howard mutters as he rolls his eyes.
"Thanks for that. I'm Anastasia Nikolaevna Romanov. You can call me Anya for short."
"That's one long name-"
"Shut it Howard." Peggy rolls her eyes at him before turning her attention back at me, "where are you from?"
"Russia. But I grew up in Cali, then moved to Florida."
"Have you ever been to New York?" She asks me.
"No." 
"Well then Anya, why don't you get dressed and then I'll show you around. Plus, we have a lot to discuss." She smiles at me.