Helloo everyone! It's finally summer for me so I can exercise my writing skills to its fullest potential.

This is probably going to be a two-shot, and most of the material will be covered in the second chapter. Cliff notes version: Steve doesn't wake up until after the Chitauri invasion.

This actually took me quite a bit of thought. So I hope everything makes sense!

Summary: Steve Rogers wakes up after the Battle of New York, and all he knows is that everyone he holds dear is gone, and that there's a strange man with intelligent brown eyes at the foot of his bed, and he's saying, "Come with me.

Disclaimer: I do not own the Avengers.

The Dust of Creation

When Steve Rogers wakes up, he notices a ceiling fan swirling round and round and round, and hears a game on a radio that was played years before he went down in the Arctic.

He doesn't like this place.

The walls are stripped bare, and Steve notices that the décor has been made to resemble that of the 40's, but the street is too loud, the buildings outside the window are too high, and the scene is just too fake for it to be all real.

He sits up, and jumps back when he sees a man with a neatly trimmed goatee and intelligent brown eyes is sitting on a chair at the foot of his bed. Steve thinks he looks like Howard, and his heart sinks.

The man stands up from his chair, and offers an outstretched hand with a bright gleam in his eye before he says, "Come with me."

And Steve doesn't know why, but he does.

The night was alive with the smell of the insanity of the man pulling him along the streets of New York.

Clad in a beige shirt and pants, Steve Rogers followed the man daintily all the while trying not to gape at the scenes unfolding in front of him.

Bright lights, with the buildings hushed down into silhouettes as the sun bowed down behind them. Flashy cars, colorful lights, and people wearing things that really don't cover up enough skin. But New York was loud, and it made Steve's head hurt, like a hammer pounding against a heavy locked metal door.

And still, the man in front of him, who was draped in a simple black shirt with 'Black Sabbath' written on it and denim jeans, pulled him along through the streets, winding and weaving through the crowd like a ghost. Fleeting, almost like no one could see them.

But they were real. As real as the next person Steve brushed his shoulder against.

Strong, calloused hands held his tightly, the signs of struggle and war and hurt. And strangely enough, Steve didn't want to let go.

But Steve was still confused, it was obvious as the sun setting behind him, that this was not home. This was not the 40's, this was not the place he knew and loved. No, no, this was something entirely knew.

It almost seemed like something out of a warzone after the man pulled him around the corner. Bricks and rubble and ash littered the street, rounded off with yellow tape and shining lights and blaring sirens. And Steve didn't know what was going on.

But then the man stopped, and abruptly turned around in front of the yellow tape. Steve bumped into him and he stumbled back.

Blinking, the man stretched out his hand with a bright smile on his face. "Hello."

Steve creased his brow, before taking the man's hand in his in a firm grip. "Who are you?"

The man laughed, and Steve noticed a slight bruise around his neck. "Why I'm Tony, Tony Stark."

Steve blinked, and stepped back. The man – Tony, simple cocked his head to the right like a confused puppy. "What's wrong, Cap? Cat got your tongue?"

Tony chuckled again before shaking his head in tease. "Oh, Cap, such innocence in your eyes. Such confusion. Would you like me to elaborate?"

Steve huffed, eyes darting around him, wishing and wondering why the hell there were destroyed buildings behind Tony's back. The red and blue lights of the emergency personnel created an angelic shadow on Tony's face.

"You," he pointed towards Tony's chest, which he now noticed held a bright blue light, "what are you? Where am I? What is this?"

He began gesturing frantically to the buildings, to the sky, to the cars, to the people, and Steve felt his heart pumping against his chest at what felt like a hundred miles a minute.

And he just doesn't understand.

Tony looks at him, lips pursed in a pout, brows creased and head cocked to the side. He taps his hands against each other before taking another scrutinizing look at Steve.

"Me?" Steve nods. "You know who I am."

Steve wrinkles his nose, "Tony Stark."

Tony nods, a small smile finally gracing his lips. "Good. What else do you need to know?"

"What is this? What's happening? Where's Howard? Are you his son?"

Tony rolls his eyes, "Oh god," he mutters, "you're smarter than that, Cap. Impress me."

Steve looked at him, eyebrows creased in an irritated look with his arms crossed over his chest. Tony put his hands up in mock defense. "Okay, okay, geez."

Tony looked behind him, at the burning buildings that the flames are still devouring, at the bodies being carried out of the rubble, at the ruined Stark Tower in the distance, and Steve swears he can see Tony's shoulder droop and his face fall. And he knows for sure that Tony played a part in all of that destruction.

"You've been asleep, Cap," Tony says softly, "for almost seventy years."

As soon as the words leave Tony's lips, the bustle of the streets behind him and the blaring of the sirens blur into one, loud buzzing noise. He feels his head spinning, and the world turning beneath his feet, and he can't help but think that everyone he loved, everyone he held close, was dead.

"And you missed it."

Steve rounds back, his eyes focusing solely on Tony's brown ones. He gnaws at his bottom lip, ignoring the pain in his chest and the weight of his heart. "What?"

"You missed the war, Cap. Woke up too late."

Steve furrows his eyebrows, and his eyes take a peek at the destruction behind the man who whisked him away from purgatory. "What happened?"

Tony's eyes look down, the shadows of the lights behind him casting a shadow on his features, but it's not dark enough that Steve doesn't notice the tears pooling at his eyes.

"It was the greatest war that I have ever fought, and the hardest battle that I've ever won. But winning comes at a price, Steve, and lives were lost that day. There was so much blood, and so much fire, and you weren't there," Tony breathes, his voice choking a little on his suppressed sobs.

"The city was taken control by a madman," he hisses through gritted, "and we fought so hard."

"Who's 'they?'" Steve asks. He feels fear bubbling up inside his chest as the sun fades down and the sky turns black.

Tony's eyes glance up towards his, "The Avengers." He huffs and lets out a humorless laugh, and continues, "And we won. But this was never supposed to happen."

They both look back at the scene of destruction behind them, and Steve watches the moon rise from the curtain call.

"What was never supposed to happen?" Steve asks, and his voice is shaking.

Tony takes a deep breath, and Steve can see an internal struggle fighting a losing battle inside him. "In another life, this was never supposed to happen. In another life this was the story that never was."

"What do you mean?"

Tony looks back at Steve, eyes soft and calm, but lips curved in a frown.

"This is where I died."

Basically everything will be explained in the next and final chapter :) I don't know, just a random idea that popped in and this happened!

Hopefully, I'll be able to upload the next part tomorrow morning or in two days!

Reviews are appreciated! :)