Bless The Broken Road

PART THREE: Captain America Wakes Up In 2011

Something is playing through the speaker as Steve Rogers finally wakes up. A soft buzz of commentary fills his ears as he begins to get roused from his sleep. It takes a while for his eyes to open, his mind feeling groggy as if he'd been asleep for a while.

Waking up, Steve feels completely relaxed. He's laying on a stiff bed in his army clothes, facing up as a ceiling fan slowly spins above him. A light breeze drifts through the small room, the beige curtains moving ever so slightly.

The room was nice enough with green and white walls, a lamp beside his bed and several fans spinning calmly around him. Yet despite the cool atmosphere, Steve knows something is up. He frowns as he sits up, ignoring how stiff his bones feel.

The last thing he remembered was being in the plane, flying it down in order to protect the thousands of lives that were being threatened by the bomb Schmidt had wanted to drop. Peggy had been crying down the line. Steve had wanted to tell her he loved her but in that moment, he'd settled with making a promise about a dance they both knew he would never be able to keep. And then ice.

The game's commentary picked up, the voices getting louder as the crowd cheered. It was meant to be positive and happy but Steve just frowned even harder. He knew that game . . .

The door opened and a petite brunette walked in, a smile on her face. "Good morning," she closed the door behind her before glancing at her watch. "Or should i say afternoon?"

The poor attempt at humour failed on Steve, his mind going one hundred miles per minute as he tried to decipher what the hell was going on. The game was still playing through the speakers, the cheers doing nothing but elevate Steve's stress levels even more.

"Where am i?" He stared at her with distrust, ignoring her calm smiles and quiet voice.

"You're in a recovery room in New York City."

Lies, Steve yelled in his head. He glanced around the room again, seeing all the things he'd missed when he'd first woken. The scene outside of the window was obviously fake, the New York buildings looking painted. Being a city boy, Steve knew that it would never be this quiet in NYC. With the windows open, the streets noise should be infiltrating the space around him.

"Where am i really?"

The woman looks flustered, brushing off Steve's comment with a wonky smile. "I'm afraid i don't understand."

"The game, its from May 1941— i know because i was there." Realisation dawned on the woman's face, something akin to fear growing in her eyes. Steve stands up from the bed, slowing walking over to her. "So i'm going to ask you again, where am i?"

"Captain Rogers—"

"WHO ARE YOU?" Steve barks just as the door opens again and men dressed in black SWAT armour barge in. He stumbles backwards, worry blossoming in his chest. All he remembered was Peggy crying and suddenly he's in a fake hospital room with a game from 4 years ago playing on the small stereo and men in black armour surrounding him.

"Captain Rogers wait!" The woman yells after Steve kicks the two SWAT men through the fake walls and begins to run from the studio like room. Steve feels like an animal trying to be caught as he runs through the corridors with hundreds of agents stopping and trying to catch him. He pushes them to the floor as he passes, heart beating wildly.

It isn't until he makes it outside that his anxiety skyrockets. The cars back in the 40s looked nothing like the things being driven around on the streets as Steve runs out into the cold air. Sleeker and faster cars whiz down the streets in the usual New York traffic, the people on the streets seemingly unfazed about the man running barefoot past them.