Captain Steve Rodgers, or Captain America to strangers who thought he was long dead, drove into his old neighborhood in Brooklyn. It was extremely strange, to say the least, to see all of the past and future mixed together. No- past and present, Steve had to keep reminding himself.

When he looked back on it, it was fitting to see that man in the place where he was.

Steve had been walking around, seeing if any of his old hangouts still existed. It wasn't healthy, he knew, but he felt too nostalgic to not look for them. He was happy to find that the old diner he went to as a kid was still alive and going strong. Well, maybe not going strong... But at least it wasn't closed. They probably kept it open simply for the "retro" aspect of it.

He slid onto a bar stool and observed the place. Most of the small restaurant had been redone, which was to be expected. They had expanded it, adding room for a few more tables, and replaced the tile with some of similar design. All in all, the diner didn't look too different. they even had a few of the old ads that hung on the wall back in his time framed and put in the same places.

"What can I get you, sweetheart?" a perky waitress asked him, her pad and pencil poised in her hand.

"Just a cheeseburger and a Coca-Cola, thanks."

"Okay, it'll be right up!"

She quickly brought back his drink. He sipped it, just watching the people around him. Everyone was in a hurry nowadays, always focusing on what they needed to do next. Half the people were chattering away on their cell phone things. In fact, the only people he could see that were really just enjoying the present moment were the two men in the corner nearest him.

They were sitting on the same side of the booth, their shoulders nearly touching against each other. The man on the inside was smaller than the man next him, probably around twenty-three years old, with messy blonde hair, grass green eyes, and eyebrows that were similar to caterpillars. He wore a mint green shirt with a sweater vest that matched his eyes. Looking at him, Steve's thoughts strangely shifted to Peggy, although she and that man had nothing in common other than the British (English, he corrected himself) accent that filtered over to where Steve was sitting.

The man sitting next to the Brit burst into loud, slightly annoying laughter. He was taller than the Englishman, although he looked just a few years younger. He had wheat blonde hair that made the Brit's look positively neat, with a strange cowlick that seemed to defy gravity. He wore fashionable wire framed glasses over his bright blue eyes. Over a light blue T-shirt, the loud man wore an old bomber jacket that looked like it came from Steve's time. Maybe the kid got it from his grandfather.

Steve couldn't shake the feeling he had seen this man before. And not just from the last two months he had spent in this time period, no. He felt like he saw this man a long, long time ago. And that there was an important reason why he would remember him.

After watching the two for a few minutes, it became apparent they were together. The American man would frequently touch his arm, or shoulder, or once even a peck on the cheek, which the Englishman would give a small smile to, and sometimes return. It didn't bother Steve, them being homosexual. Something about this new era was just that everyone was so open with their emotions, as if all the social media had stripped away their sense of privacy. Steve couldn't tell whether he liked it or not, and settled that it was just different.

Maybe the man was related to one of the men on his old team? But his face was so familiar. And the jacket was a pilot's, not a soldier's, although the kid could've just bought it.

The couple finished their meals as Steve was halfway done (the Briton had a plate of fish and chips, while the American had an abnormally large hamburger and shake). They paid the bill and got up to leave, the Englishman putting on his coat.

The American walked up to Steve. He stuck out his hand and gave him a sparkling movie star smile. "I never did tell you, even though I should've decades ago. The name's Alfred F. Jones, Captain. And thanks for your service to your country."

"Wha-?" Steve sputtered, but with one last wink, the two men disappeared out the door before he could think of a question.

That wink! Suddenly it rushed back to him, hitting him like a train. Of course! How could he have possibly forgotten?

It had rained the day he first saw that man, back in 1943. Steve and some men were behind enemy lines, trying to get some important information from a Nazi base camp. They were being as stealthy as they could, but the traitorous mud caused them to slip dangerously in the forest. Luckily, the sound of raindrops hitting leaves covered most of the noises they made.

And then there was a horribly loud snap of wood.

The battalion froze, holding their breath. After ten seconds, they gave quiet, relieved sighs and started walking again.

Suddenly, they were surrounded by krauts, firing their machine guns.

"Get down!" Steve ordered, as if it was needed.

It appeared it was needed, though, because one soldier still stood. He shot down every German who was unfortunate to enter his line of vision. When he ran out of bullets, the idiot ran up to the enemy soldiers and started punching them, goddammit. And he still took them down. With his bare hands.

Had Steve not been busy with his own set of krauts, he would've been gaping like a fish. He wasn't doing to bad himself, but he's a super soldier, not just some courageous idiot.

"Captain, look out-!" the crazy soldier warned.

Steve was forced to the ground. The brave idiot had tackled him. Steve felt something warm drip onto him, filling him with dread. He inhaled sharply when he saw it. The soldier had been shot in the heart, blood blossoming from his wound. And yet the man didn't seem very concerned.

"Aw, mother fucker!" he cursed, following Steve's gaze. "That hurt like a bitch! And now I'm gonna have to get a new uniform!"

The soldier got up, carefully covering his fatal wound by putting on the army jacket he had previously tied around his waist.

He turned to Steve. "Don't tell anyone, okay, Captain? Or else I'll have to change battalions again, and that sucks."

He put a finger to his lips and gave him that Wink.

The impossible soldier did end up changing battalions, although it was unknown where to, before Captain Rodgers could ask him his name, or even thank him for saving his life. Not to mention asking him what the hell had happened

And now the crazy idiot had magically appeared in present-day Brooklyn, presumably without freezing in between.

Steve threw some bills on the counter and ran after the two men.

"Wait!"

Basically something that had been floating in my head for a while. If you want, I might continue, but I think I'll just leave it up to your imagination.