Black Widow: An Origin Story

New York, New York

Steve's POV

Something was very wrong.

It wasn't cold.

The last thing I remembered was crashing the Valkyrie into the ice. If I felt anything, it should be the cold. If I were even alive.

Disregarding the odd temperature, there was a baseball game playing nearby. And something soft under my back. A mattress, perhaps?

Nothing was adding up.

I finally allowed my eyes to flicker open. The first thing I noticed was the white ceiling, white walls, though the bottom half was green. There was an SSR logo on one of the walls. Upon closer inspection, I recognized a radio as the source of the baseball game.

I sat up as I listened closer. I'd been to the very game that was playing.

I'd been pulled from the ice.

But by whom?

I didn't have to wait long to find out as a door I hadn't noticed opened and a woman walked in. She was dressed in standard 1940's Army attire, but it didn't make me feel any better. While it looked accurate for the time, there were slight differences that the average person might not notice.

But I was not an average person.

"Good afternoon, Captain Rogers," she smiled. "It's good to see you awake."

"Where am I?" I asked, shifting to face her fully.

"You're in a recovery room in New York City," she replied, looking down at the clipboard in her arms.

"That game," I started, making my way to my feet. "I remember it. I was there. I won't ask again. Where am I?"

"Captain Rogers, please, let me explain--"

"Explain what?" I growled.

I wasn't angry at her, but the situation. Something was wrong. Every nerve in my body was firing, telling me to get out before something happened.

I made for the door she'd come through, but burst through extremely thin wood. If they had planned on keeping me hostage, they chose terrible material to do so.

As soon as I caught my balance, I ran. She'd called for backup, and I wasn't about to let myself be caught, especially since I didn't know who had saved me.

Bright light pulled me to a stop. I'd been in some sort of warehouse attached to some even larger building. People in expensive suits gawked at me as I ran by them, desperate to remain free. Some of those suits ran after me.

I bolted for the glass doors and sprinted out onto the street, barely dodging the bumper to bumper cars.

Nothing about this made since. Not the costume the woman had been wearing. I'd come to realize that's what it had been. Not the cars, not the bright lights and tall buildings.

It wasn't hard to recognize this place as New York City, but it was not the one I'd grown up with.

What sort of drugs had they put in me? Everything was too modern. How much time had passed?

The questions rattled around in my head as I bolted deeper into the city. It seemed, at least, I was not in Hydra's hands. For that, I was thankful.

Several black vehicles screeched to a halt from all sides as I made it to Times Square. I slid to a stop to avoid slamming into one of them. Men with high powered guns surrounded me. I panicked, unsure of what to do.

Was I to bolt and risk getting killed, or did I surrender?

The realistic side of my brain had shut down. The part that wanted to understand. All I wanted now was to get away from everyone. To be able to breathe and decide on my own whether this was real or not.