Chapter One

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A/N: This took WAY too long! I am so sorry for making you guys wait almost three months (or is it really just two?) for this next chapter. I hit a few speed bumps with the planning and my writing in general. Either way, I hope you enjoy!! - J & E xxx

Chapter One

2012

Steve stepped out of the vehicle and cautiously surveyed his surroundings. The trees that encompassed the area reminded him of the European forests he'd been through during the war, there was a lake that was bigger than the one the Barnes' had taken him to back in the summer of '29, before the Depression hit, and a quaint little cabin that was nestled into the scenery like one of those paintings Steve had seen at some point on his USO tour. It was peaceful and relaxing, the complete opposite of the war and Steve's life as Captain America.

Fury stepped out of the SUV and walked to the back, grabbing a duffel bag. "Welcome to the Retreat, Captain Rogers," he announced in his gruff voice. The director walked towards the cabin and unlocked it, not bothering to see if Steve was following him inside. Steve followed him, hands stuffed in his pockets and his eyes still locked on the scenery.

Inside the cabin, the design was confusing. It was warm and cozy, yet sleek and modernized. And not the modern he was used to, with the drastic edges and bright, vibrant colors. The cabin itself was about as big as Steve and Bucky's apartment back in the '40s and somehow that comforted Steve enough to wander around the place.

The director set the bag on the coffee table and let Steve take a look. He settled into the sofa, legs crossed and arms over the back of the couch. Fury simply kept his eye on Steve's movements, not in a scary, intimidating way but in a calculating, curious way. Either way, Steve didn't feel scared or worried about the man's gaze being glued on him and it didn't stop him from taking a good look around the place (read: check the perimeters).

Steve eventually settled into the recliner, rigid and tense. He leaned forward, elbows on his knees, and stared at Director Fury, waiting for some sort of explanation.

"What? Don't like the place? Too rustic for you?" Fury cocked an eyebrow and smirked.

"No," Steve said with a small chuckle, "it's too calm. And modern." He cleared his throat and sat up a little straighter. "Speaking of which, I'm still not too sure I understand what happened and why you've brought me out here."

Fury sat up, too, and sighed. "Look, Steve," he glanced up at him as if to ask if that was okay. When Steve didn't seem to care, he continued, "things are different than it was when you were awake. The war ended, people moved on, and life continued. You crashed the Valkyrie into the Arctic and somehow, with the serum and the ice, you were able to preserve your body completely." He cleared his throat. "Like I told you before, I work for the Strategic Homeland Intervention, Enforcement, and Logistics Division, but you can call us S.H.I.E.L.D.or S.H.I.E.L.D. Which I should thank you for, Captain Rogers." Fury leaned back with a smirk, settling into the cushions again.

"Why is that?" Steve furrowed his eyebrows, lips pursed. He wasn't sure what this was all about.

"S.H.I.E.L.D. was created by the legendary Agent Margaret Carter and Howard Stark, CEO of Stark Industries. I assume you know them?"

Steve blanched. "Peggy and Howard?"

"They created S.H.I.E.L.D not too long after the Valkyrie crash. Wanted to keep your legacy going and prevent people like Johann Schmidt and Hydra from gaining power. S.H.I.E.L.D. has changed since then, but the foundation they set is still very evident in the way we govern ourselves."

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