Author's Notes: Hello all (or possibly no one), this is my first published story and feedback is most welcome. Constructive criticism is appreciated.
This is only going to be a two-part story. I've had it in my head for a while and once I get it out I can continue with my other ideas.

I do not own any Marvel characters, only my OC. I do not own any lyrics contained in this piece.

Enjoy!

EDIT: Story has been updated during this drag of a quarantine. I looked back and realized how terrible it was the first time, included poorly written chapters with a loosely thought out plot. So now it's a one shot! They way it should have been to start with. Thanks to anyone who supported the original!

Frozen. For 70 years, time moved on, continuing as it must, while Steve Rogers remained untainted by age. After waking up in the modern world he didn't have much time to adjust before getting thrown into the battle to save New York, New York. Almost two years later and he still wasn't sure he had a grasp on how to function in this new era.

Tony was hosting a party that night, Steve walked around in the city, getting lost in small neighborhoods and staying out of the way. If he was going to deal with Tony's idea of music all night, he would need some time to clear his mind and relax, though the music was slowly growing on him.

Passing by the storefronts he could see most places were packed full for the fun-filled events of a Friday evening. He continued on, leaving behind the loud bass as he passed by the sports bar. Then, somewhere along the way, Steve Rogers caught himself smiling as his paced slowed.

Music filled the space around him that was calming, almost relapsing him back to the 1940's. It was different. He had never heard it before, but it had the familiar "old" vibe. It didn't sound like the usual melody he heard now. There was no techno beat or auto-tuned voice. Slightly jazzy, it was a song that could be danced to.

Steve's eyes fell upon a little diner that looked out of place amongst the rest of the places. It had a diner-meets-pub aura, rustic walls and dark accents, dabbled with colors of brightness throughout and it was empty. Almost empty. Stepping closer, the music grew louder, and behind the bar he saw a girl in a candy-apple-red dress that fit snug through her torso, then fell with a slight flair from her hips. Her long, honey colored hair flowed with the breeze drifting through the open store front as she swayed in rhythm with the music.

With a fluid step she spun quickly, turning a dial and increasing the volume. Another girl from the back came forward and sat at the bar, smirking at the blonde in the red dress.

"Do you have to always play this song when you're in control of the music?" Steve heard he ask. "You drive people away with this old, Frank Sinatra stuff."

The blonde through a bar towel at her co-worker.

"Lighten up, Liss," she laughed. "It's 20 minutes to close anyways, and this is Bobby Darin for your information." Steve watched her step out from behind the bar to wipe down the tables. The other girl, Liss, stood and went to hug her co-worker.

"I don't know what we'll do without you, Sarah," sighed Liss as they parted.

"You'll have to play this song without me," the blonde, Sarah, smiled.

Steve hadn't realized that he entered the quaint diner and before he could think about it he was spotted by the pair of workers.

"Oh, hi there." Sarah returned behind the bar. "What can I get for you? The kitchen's still open for a little while longer. We're closing early tonight in honor of my last day."

"It's your last night huh?" he said snapping out of his trance and taking a seat at the bar. "Big plans after this?"

"Well, I guess you could say that. My aunt and uncle have a farm out in the middle of nowhere that I'm moving to. I got a job at a wildlife park near them so this way I can help them out too. Two birds," she shrugged.

"Impressive," Steve nodded. "I suppose congratulations are in order."

"Thank you," beamed Sarah. "So, what'll it be?"

"Uh," he hesitated, knowing alcohol was a waste of money for him since it had no effect on his body and mind. "Sure, why not. I'll have a beer. Whatever you have on tap is fine."

"Alrighty," she said, filling a tall glass, swaying again to the music ever so slightly.

"What is this," asked Steve, "the music?"

Sarah slid the beer to him with wide eyes and a bright smile.

"Beyond the Sea? You don't know it?" Air escaped her as he shook his head. "It was a really popular song, still is to the people who know of it. It's probably my favorite and always will be."

"Hm," he pondered, listening to the words.

It's far beyond the stars
It's near beyond the moon
I know beyond a doubt
My heart will lead me there soon

"What's it about?" he asked, followed by a short laugh from what he could assume was the kitchen, which the blonde ignored.

"What's it about!" she shouted with great enthusiasm. Sarah smiled, placing her hand on her forehead, trying to get her thoughts straight. "Wow, um. Well I used to think it was just about two lovers divided by a sea because he left to explore or travel or whatever. But then I learned that it was originally written by a guy shortly after World War II." She leaned against the bar. "So, ever since learning that I can't help but think it could be a reflection on the war as the men waited and longed to return to their homeland to rejoin their lovers, and that they never want to leave again. See, 'We'll meet beyond the shore, we'll kiss just as before,'" she spoke, quoting the song, and then shrugged. "That's just the way my mind thinks.

Steve was rigid. He hadn't heard a normal civilian talk about the war, and now there was this girl before him dissecting a song and interpreting it in a way that applied to the soldiers from the war. Steve didn't know what to do. He didn't know what to say.

Sarah's smile fell as she saw him staring at the bubbles on top of his beer with a changed expression from the one moments before.

"Hey," she said, "are you okay?"

Steve nodded.

"Yeah," he lied as he thought back to all the men and women he fought alongside. One woman in particular that he had grown fond of. "The war had such an impact. I feel like people don't appreciate…" he trailed.

The music had stopped, leaving the bar silent. Suddenly, Sarah reached forward, placing her hand on Steve's arm. He looked up in surprise to meet her bright, blue grey eyes looking back into his blue ones.

"My Grandpa served in the war," she said softly. "He was one of the lucky ones to make it out. Whatever happened for you, I'm sorry." The corner of her mouth pulled lightly at a smile after a moment. She pulled away, turning around and doing something with clinking glasses.

Steve looked down. He knew when she said 'for him' she implied whatever his situation was, and didn't realize that it truly was him. None the less, it touched him, warming him a little in his slight slump.

Sarah cleared her throat, causing Steve to lift his head. She was setting down two shot glasses and filling them with whiskey.

"How about a toast," she proposed. "And you can't say no because otherwise I have to take them both and that would just look bad on my part."

Steve returned her smile as he took the glass between his fingers and lifted it as she had.

"To those who fought, may it have been with courage and in the name of what was right. To those who died, may it have been with honor and not in vain. To those who live, may they stand with pride and remembrance, remaining unbreakable." She spoke smoothly, maintaining eye contact with Steve, making him feel like she was digging into his soul. They shared a short moment of silence and thoughtfulness before gulping the shot.

Sarah set the glass down, shaking her head as the alcohol burned its way down.

"God bless America," she managed, making Steve laugh.

"I take it you're not much of a drinker," he guessed.

"Mm, how could you tell?" Sarah joked. "I don't see a point in drinking something if it doesn't taste good and doesn't singe my throat."

"Straight whiskey wasn't your best choice then," stated Steve. He hesitated, not sure why he was wanting to ask what followed. "So, your grandfather. Did he make it home unscathed?"

"I don't think anyone made it out of that war unscathed," she supposed. "I mean, how could they? But Grandpa, no, he wasn't in one piece when he got back. He lost his leg below the knee. It doesn't seem like much compared to what could have been, but it took its toll on him. He had nightmares too. By the time I could ask him details about the war he had kind of lost it. He would talk but not everything made sense. He told the best stories though," she smiled faintly as her eyes fell to the floor.

"Tell me," Steve pried as he tried to look at her face once more. She looked to him.

"Captain America."

His stomach lurched. Did Sarah know who he was? Did the world know? Everyone? Would he have no secret identity? After all, Tony didn't anymore, why should he? Of course. That's why she was paying attention and being nice, she knew the whole time. His face was hard, and he was about to say something when she laughed and shook her head, looking around.

"A lot of people just thought of Captain America as more of an icon than a real hero. My Grandpa though…he believes he owes his life to the star spangled man with a plan." Sarah looked at Steve. "When his leg got blown off he was left for dead. No one knew he was still there, they couldn't hear him screaming over the gunfire and explosions. But someone came for him. All he remembers is a red, white, and blue blur carrying him before passing out. 'It was like being in the arms of America itself,' he would say. Captain America is his hero. He's mine too then, I suppose. I wouldn't be around if his bravery and dedication hadn't saved my Grandpa."

Steve's heart strings pulled. He remembered that man, very little, but enough. Sarah's grandfather could have died. It had to be fate, a message from God. She was here for a purpose, and that was to remind Steve Rogers who he was and why he mattered to the world. In that moment he felt like she had pulled him out of his dark, shadowed corner.

The two only smiled at each other. He didn't know what to say after that unintentionally uplifting story. She really had no idea all along.

"My names Steve," he said, holding out a hand.

She smiled, taking his hand.

"I'm Sarah."

"It's a pleasure to make your acquaintance," he said. "You know Sarah was my mother's name."

"Really?" she glowed. "Well it is a good name."

Steve nodded.

"Yes, it really is," he thought out loud as he watched the smiling girl who made all his doubt disappear.

Hours had passed by as the sun began to fall in the sky, casting its light of golden fire through the wide windows of the storefronts. The sun always seemed to find a way to sneak through and around all the other buildings, tall or small, and bid the sign 'Cormack's Place' goodnight. Inside, two strangers laughed together, one in a red dress, the other in a blue shirt and leather jacket. In the back, a head was popping around the corner to spectate. The head became a whole as she rounded the corner, walking towards the two at the bar.

"Hey, not to be a party pooper but…Sarah do you know what time it is?"

Sarah looked at Liss with pure innocents, and then to the clock. For apparently the last two hours she had been too busy talking to realize the world still spun and her coworker was waiting to leave, but couldn't because of the policies (two people at all times). Sarah didn't need Liss to stay, she trusted this man, a lot for some reason. But could she get her to leave?

"Oh my gosh," Sarah said, "Liss, I'm so sorry. I didn't realize what time it was."

"Wow," Steve said looking at his watch. "I should get going. Some – uh – people I work with are having a party that I should be getting to." He began to pull out his wallet.

"No, leave it," Sarah said. "These are on me. Thanks for giving me a good last night."

"I can't do that," insisted Steve as he put a twenty down on the bar. "At least accept a tip. I owe you. I was pretty down when I came in." He could see she was hesitant, and gave her a smile, raising his eyebrows. "Please, I insist."

Sarah smiled back. Though still hesitant, she put her hand on the cash and their fingers brushed.

"Thank you," she said with in a soft voice.

Steve rose, stuffing his wallet in his back pocket. He nodded and slowly headed for the door, and left for the Avengers tower. His insides screamed at him to invite the girl to the party, urged him to get to know her, but he knew she was gone in the morning. Not to mention, putting Sarah in danger was not something he was interested in, and that's what a life with him meant…danger. The life of Captain America. Once a soldier always a soldier. But that didn't change the fact that she tugged at his heart strings and reminded him that no matter where or when he was, one thing remained the same; people will always need someone to inspire hope.

Sarah watched Steve walk away and head down the street. Her heart thumped at her to run after him, ask him how to contact him…but she couldn't. Her new life began tomorrow. He glanced back once at her through the window, smiling one last time at her.