The heat was fading fast, its fiery grasp vanishing with the last rays of the sunlight. The starks began to warily shine as darkness descended, each one shining its own light down upon a lone figure crouched among the rocks.

Steve drew his thumb over the edge of a knife, a small smile curving over his dry lips as a small bead of blood welled up from his finger. It would do. If anyone tried to give him trouble in the city, he would have a suitable defense at least.

Steve almost wished he had left that morning, it would have saved him all of this hassle. But he couldn't have reached the city in the hour left until sunrise and the minutes it took after sunrise for the temperature to go from the nineties to the two hundreds. Steve had instead rationally chosen to stay inside his thermopack—something like a cross between a cooler and a really big sleeping bag—until the temperature had dulled down to a pleasantly cool one hundred and fifteen.

Steve sighed as he slid his thin arms through the pack's straps and set off down the barren pathway to the city, leaving the cave he had used as shelter from the elements far behind him with no trace of his presence remaining.

He trekked down the desert path for hours, nothing surrounding him but hard baked dirt and the occasional grave marker. Steve gritted his teeth as he passed a small, gray one with a child's doll underneath it. The elderly and children were always hit especially hard by the heat and the population of humans grew smaller every year as a result. Steve didn't want to think about how many people he had seen dying from dehydration, or being baked and boiled alive in their own fluids.

Steve passed the last cross and was faced with the great stone wall that protected the city. Guards dressed in white military garb patrolled the top, their guns within easy reach at their hips as their watchful eyes scanned the road leading into the city. A few travelers were entering now, wearing the telling dark red gear of mercenaries. Steve slid into step behind them, keeping his head down as one of them turned to look at him, grunting something to his friend as his beady eyes narrowed. Steve was obviously deemed unthreatening as the man grunted and turned back to his friends, a harsh laugh escaping him as one of his comrades said something under his breath.

Steve gritted his teeth and turned his attention back to the city laid out before him. Made from the ruins of what had once been New York, the city was a strange combination of mud, dirt and half melted metal. The streets thronged with merchants and travelers alike while thieves snuck through the crowd looking for a good target.

"Steve!"

Steve frowned as he heard Natasha's voice. It seemed to be coming from somewhere above him.

"Steve!" He heard again.

He turned and spotted her lounging atop a small hut, a half-eaten orange in her hand and a pile of peels in the other. Steve smiled as he hurried over to her and scrambled up side of the hut. It was hot on there, the roof was concrete so it didn't melt or burn, but it still could burn him if he touched it. Natasha had laid down her thermopack so they could both sit on it. It was sleek and brown to blend in with the dirt. Packs like that cost more money than Steve had ever seen, and for a moment he was envious before he reminded himself that it was his choice not to have that luxury.

"I didn't think you'd make it," she said as she passed him a slice of orange. Steve gave her a skeptical look as he reached out to take the fruit.

"It's real," she assured him, eating a slice herself, "not genetically modified or anything."

Steve nibbled at the end, a small gasp escaping him as flavor exploded in his mouth. He shoved the whole slice in his mouth, a groan escaping him as he chewed on the fruit. He had never had orange before, or any fruit for that matter that wasn't genetically modified to have the most vitamins and the least flavor. He thought he had had an apple once, but he couldn't quite remember.

"Here," Natasha passed him the rest of the orange, taking one slice for herself and splitting the peels between them. This was the desert, nothing was wasted. They sat in silence, the only sounds coming from the market and the crunch as Steve bit into the orange slice.

"Do you have it?" Natasha asked quietly, slipping into business mode. Steve nodded as he reached into his pants pocket and pulled out the old cellphone. Natasha took it from his hand and smiled.

"I would ask why Shield needs an old, rusted cell phone," Steve began, "but I don't think I'd get an answer."

Natasha smiled, already unscrewing the back of the phone. "You're learning."

Steve shook his head in disbelief. About eighty years ago, Shield and Hydra had broken out into a war, the resulting destruction had created the world they lived in now. Both sides were thought to have been destroyed, but Steve had learned—seen for himself—that Shield was very much still up and running. Natasha was one of their agents.

"Say hi to Clint for me?" Steve asked and Natasha nodded as she pulled the back off the cell phone.

"Where'd you find it?" she asked, her voice slightly muffled as she held the back of the phone between her teeth.

Steve popped the last slice of orange into his mouth mournfully before he replied. "Chicago. People have just started rebuilding there and so there was lots to scrounge and easy ways to do it."

Natasha peered up at Steve. "Did you…" she whispered, eyes wide and deceivingly innocent. Steve smiled as he reached into his pack and pulled out the old remains of a computer. "For you, Nat."

Natasha gasped and snatched it from his fingers, running her hand over the back and smiling as she heard the clatter of parts.
"I owe you big," she turned to him, "how much?"

"Nah," Steve waved his hand, "a gift between friends."

Natasha grinned and for a moment Steve thought she was going to hug him, but then the moment was gone and she was tucking the computer in her pack along with the phone.

She tugged three small bottles from her pack and Steve's eyes widened as he heard the slosh of liquid inside them.

"Here," she handed them to him, "three water bottles. More portable than gold." She winked at him coyly, "Don't spend it all at once."

Steve chuckled as he took them and tucked them into his pack. "Thanks, Nat."

He began to stand, but paused as Natasha grabbed his arm. "You know…" she began, "Shield could use an agent like you."

"A scrawny asthmatic nobody with a penchant for low blood sugar?" Steve shook his head, "I prefer working like this."

"The compound has lots of food and water," Natasha leaned in, "and fruit. You don't get paid, but you get all you can eat and drink, and a good place to sleep."

Steve hesitated, but shook his head. "I wouldn't be much use, I'm afraid. Besides, I kind of like it out here. Sunlight, wind—"

"Starvation and disease?"

Steve shook his head and Natasha rolled her eyes as she began to eat her orange peels.

"Frost! Frost on the southern beaches!"

Steve started as a man came barreling into the marketplace, his chest heaving as he tripped and sprawled on the dirt.

"Frost?" Steve muttered, "But that's only been in California…"

"What did you see?" A woman asked and the man straightened, gasping out a thank you as someone passed him a bottle of alcohol. He took a long sip and passed it back before he began speaking.

"I'm a fisherman. I was coming in to land with my catch when my boat caught on something. I jumped off the boat into the water and my feet landed on something hard and I slipped. When I reached down…I found this!" He pulled something out of his pocket and someone leaned forwards to look at it.

"It's ice!" He exclaimed.

"I only could take a small piece," The fisherman said, "but the chunks were all over the beach, and on the water."

People began talking excitedly as the man was led away by people who wanted to hear more, each clamoring to buy him a drink.

Steve pulled on his backpack. "I'm going to go question him," he turned to Natasha who had a grave look on her face.

"I'm going to go report to my superiors." She muttered as she stood and began rolling up her thermopack. "If they haven't heard of the frost yet, they will have soon and our new orders will be coming in."

She paused, her eyes flickering up to his. "If I need you…" she began.

"I'll be waiting for your message," Steve replied and Natasha nodded as she jumped off the roof and vanished into the crowd. Steve hurried down after her—much less gracefully—and hurried towards the bar the man had been taken to.

"A metal arm?" One man exclaimed, "His left? Impossible!" The fisherman said something about the man and the others leaned in to listen.

Steve reached down and touched the small J.B.B. marked on his left arm. It was a birthmark, everybody had it. The initials of their soul mate, if such a thing existed. Steve had only met one person who had met their match, an agent from Shield named Erik Lensherr. He was a very professional fellow—until you mentioned Charles Xavier, then he would either get a halfway dreamy, halfway guilty look on his face, or punch the person who mentioned him. Steve knew from experience.

"I saw him on the shore while I was fishing!" The now very drunk fisherman exclaimed, "He had a big red star on the metal arm and a huge gun strapped to his back! I didn't really think anything of it until later—you know there are those scavengers around there—when I remembered…" The man leaned in, his eyes fogged over with an unnatural sheen. "The Winter Soldier."

Steve rolled his eyes as he pushed off the wall and headed back outside. The man was making things up now. The Winter Soldier had died with Hydra, it was common knowledge.
Steve frowned as he stopped at a stand to buy some nutrient bars. The frost however…that was an issue.

There had always been cold zones that every traveler was warned away from. There were areas full of storms and temperatures that their technology was not prepared for. The thermopacks were made for heat, not cold, as was everything here. If the cold was traveling from Europe and Asia to America, they had to be prepared. He would have to go to the coast and see if what the man was saying was true, Steve decided. At the very least he could confirm the rumors.

As for the man with the metal arm and the big gun…Steve got a taser from the nearest vender.