Well, Vanilla and I are back for another Avengers story! This one started out as a prompt on our other story, When Romance Equals Insanity, but it got long enough and detailed enough that we decided to make it its own thing :P

We hope you enjoy!

Natalia straightened her back ever so slightly as she was approached; she accepted his presence with a cool glance before looking back at the team that was digging something up from the ice.

"Glad you could make it, Black Widow - we have an assignment for you." The man informed her.

"Who's the target?" She questioned.

A small smirk crossed the man's face. "Captain America." She moved her head a fraction to look at him, which was all he needed to continue. "Seems the rumors were true; he's not dead. Found him frozen in the ice, alive."

Natalia gave a small, almost unseen nod. "And you wish for me to take him out."

He laughed, sending a chill down her back. "Now, child, don't be so closed-minded." He placed one of those disgusting hands on her back, and even though she could barely feel it due to the coat she was wearing, the knowledge of it being there made her feel uncomfortable and violated. "We want you to befriend him, become his lover, and turn him to our side. Understand?"

"Yes, sir."

Steve returned to consciousness with the ghosts of screams and blood in his mind. For what felt like the first time in his whole life, he sucked in a big, whooping breath, almost… surprised when oxygen flooded into his lungs. Startled, his eyes shot open and he sat up, immediately dizzy and having to steady himself with a palm against the wall to his left. Wall? Wait, where was he? There was a slight chill in the air, familiar and yet too insignificant to be from the polar winds seeping into the ship he piloted.

With that thought, the memories overtook his mind as though he'd opened some mental floodgate. Clenching his fists at the onslaught, he slammed his eyes shut- and not just as a reaction to the horribly bright lights that burned him. His head started to pound. How did he get here? How had he survived? He fought the urge to curl up into a small ball- panicking or not, he was Captain America, and he didn't show such fear. Especially if this strange place turned out to be an enemy's prison cell. The plain white walls hurt to look at with his growing headache. There was no decoration in here to be seen, not so much as a window- only a cot, a door- which looked to be heavily locked- a bedside table with a glass of water on it, and some sort of machine against the far wall. It looked like a TV, but… bigger.

He tensed when several sounds came from outside of the door. Like someone was disengaging whatever locks were in place. Was someone coming in? Steve tried to move to a less vulnerable position, but found that his muscles weren't quite responsive. He could sit up, move his head, and that was about it. How long had it been since he'd used his muscles? Had they atrophied? How would he be able to defend himself in this state?

The door opened a small crack and a figure slid in before shutting it behind them. A woman, small and with a head of blindingly red hair. He eyed her suspiciously- he didn't like the calculating look in her eyes.

"I see you are awake, Mr. Rogers," she said, not moving closer to him. "How are you feeling?" She asked, but it seemed more like a formality.

"Fi-" his voice was little more than a croak, and he took a sip of the water with a shaky arm before continuing, "I'm fine." There, that sounded more stable. "Where…?" Still, his throat hurt and he couldn't finish the sentence.

"Take a few more sips of water - you have been unconscious for a long period of time." The woman informed him before walking further into the room and picking up a box and placing it on his bed. "Lunch."

After hesitantly obeying her and drinking some more water, he inspected the box carefully. "Where am I?" He asked, not to be distracted. In the box was an apple, a container of soup, and a bottle of water. As he weakly pulled the lid from the soup and dipped his spoon into it, he eyed her intently.

"Russia - 2012." She answered shortly.

He almost dropped the soup onto the bed, but somehow managed to keep from spilling it. His blood turned to ice. "W-what? Two thousand and…" Surely she was lying! That would mean he was… unconscious for over sixty years! His hands didn't look wrinkled, and he didn't feel a day older, honestly. No, it just wasn't possible. "I don't appreciate being lied to." He said as strongly as he could manage.

The woman's stare was almost icy. "I could lie to you about a lot - the date, however, is not one of them." She informed him. "Tell me what proof you want, and I'll get it."

"Who won the war?" He asked almost instantly, not moving to eat. He suddenly didn't have an appetite.

"The United States, the Soviet Union, China, the United Kingdom, and France."

Steve sighed in relief, despite his still lingering suspicion that she might have been lying. "Alright, well… I want to talk to Howard Stark." He really did, although part of the request was a test- maybe he could trick her into admitting that she was lying.

The woman walked over to a drawer and opened it, bringing out what looked like a very small screen. "Howard Stark is deceased - although his son has been on the news recently." She placed the screen on the bed in front of him, showing a man with the clear label, 'Tony Stark is Iron Man!' "It has been nearly seventy years since you disappeared - or what everybody believed to be your death; most of your friends are either old or dead."

Steve stared at the image, dumbstruck. The kid was the spitting image of Howard Stark- Steve found himself believing the woman more with each piece of evidence she produced. "He's… dead? What about Peggy?" He almost feared the answer.

The woman sat on the bed and moved the images on the screen - what the? "Peggy Carter? Yes, she's still alive - currently in a care home."

Care home? Peggy… Steve felt the color drain from his face. "This really is 2012, isn't it?" He asked numbly.

"Yes."

He leaned back against the wall in shock. How had this happened? Why? "How did I…?"

"I am not a scientist." The woman informed him bluntly. "It's probably got to do with that serum running through your veins."

Steve stared at her. He felt like his whole world had crumbled before his very eyes. He had no family, no friends, no allies… Well, he'd have to start somewhere. "And who are you?" He asked belatedly.

She looked at him, her green eyes staring straight into his. "Natalia Romanova. I've been tasked to assist you in adjusting into the modern world." She informed him.

She seemed genuine enough… although her constant detachment made her hard for him to see as anyone he could actually befriend. He held out a hand hesitantly for her to shake, hoping she'd ignore how it trembled with the effort. "Steve Rogers." He replied, even though he was sure she already knew everything about him. She had an advantage over him that made her even more unreachable.

Natalia took his hand and shook it. "Eat your lunch, Steve Rogers. You need nutrients."

From the markings on his inner elbow, it was clear they'd been pumping him with plenty of nutrients recently. He was tempted to decline… except the look she was giving him demanded no refusal, and he really didn't feel like making her mad. Begrudgingly he began sipping at his soup, ignoring how delicious it was out of spite.

Awesome, right? Totally awesome :) Please favorite, follow and leave a review telling us what you think! Chapters should be posted about once a week.

'Evening, Lovelies!

-Violet