Susan kept a firm hold of Steve's hand as they headed towards the med bay. Her knuckles were white, but Steve didn't complain; for all she knew he couldn't even notice the pressure. But her mind was too busy trying to comprehend what was happening to worry about how tightly she was clinging to him.

Someone was here from Narnia. But how? Why? And, most importantly, who? Whoever it was, they had her horn. She had left it in Caspian's care...but no, she wouldn't dare hope. Nor would she let herself hope that it was one of her siblings. The last time she had been away from Narnia for a year, over a thousand years had passed for the Narnians. Most likely this was someone who had found her horn and blown it by accident, and instead of summoning help, the horn had brought the person here.

She took a deep breath, ordering her nerves to calm down. She would need all of her wits about her. She had to be Queen Susan the Gentle when she met this person, not Susan Pevensie.

She slowed her gait as the doors of the medical center came into sight.

"I'll be right there with you," Steve whispered reassuringly, giving her hand a gentle squeeze.

Susan turned and wrapped her arms around Steve, not caring that Natasha was right there. She had seen the red-head exchange embraces with Clint before and she knew the older woman wouldn't judge.

"I'll be fine," she insisted, though they both knew she said it more for her own benefit than for Steve's. Another deep breath and she pulled away and strode through the doors.

Fury was there to meet them on the other side. "I am sick and tired of strangers appearing out of nowhere and disrupting things around here. Why can't people come visit in a more normal fashion? That was a rhetorical questions," he added, leveling a finger at all of them. "I don't need a smart-ass answer from either of you."

"Yes, Sir," Susan and Steve said together.

"Director Fury, who…?" Susan began.

"We don't know; he was already unconscious when I got there. Romanoff was in the room when he appeared."

"Where did he - " Steve started to ask.

"Same room Susan appeared in. The one where we used to keep the Tesseract," Fury answered.

"He was badly injured," Natasha said, taking over. "Twisted ankle, broken wrist, at least four fractured ribs, multiple cuts and bruises. No weapons on him though. Only the horn."

Susan reached down to touch the horn at her side, making sure it was still there. He, they had said. She had told herself not to hope, but images of Peter and Edmund and Caspian wouldn't leave her alone.

"He's from Narnia." The way Fury said it made it clear it was a statement, not a question, but Susan answered anyway.

"Without a doubt. Can I see him?"

Fury nodded. "He was just waking up when I sent Romanoff after you. We'll debrief you later. With another nod to Steve, he left the room, leaving Natasha to watch the door.

No one else was in the med center, so Susan was very conscious of her footsteps echoing in the silence. The bed at the very end was the only one with the curtains pulled around it, and by the time she reached it there was nothing she could do to stop the trembling in her hands.

Steve gave her shoulder a squeeze and a look that gave her the reassurance that she needed. Then he stepped back a bit to give her some space. This first meeting was for her and the person behind the curtain, and them alone.

Susan stepped through the curtain as quietly as she could, just in case the stranger had fallen back asleep. He hadn't. His was sitting up, his back facing her, and he seemed to be staring at the wall. His shoulders were slumped, hands resting lightly on the bed, one of which was in a cast. Dark brown hair barely brushed his shoulders, and Susan felt a mix of relief and disappointment when she realized this man wasn't one of her brothers.

Still, she did need to figure out who he was, so she cleared her throat to let him know she was there.

He turned around and brown eyes met blue, shock and surprise evident in both.

It never would have worked between us anyway.

Why not?

I am 1300 years older than you.

His eyes, his lips on hers, his fingers in her hair, his breath on her neck.

"Susan," Caspian whispered, a soft but tired smile tugging at his mouth.

Susan opened and closed her mouth, but couldn't force any words out. She stared at him, not daring to believe. Everything came rushing back, every minute they had spent together in Narnia. Every minute she had spent forgetting him and moving on. It was too much, even for her.

With a choked back sob she spun around and tore back the curtains, racing past Steve without any explanation.

"Susan?! Su, what's wrong?" Steve called after her. He took a few steps in her direction, but when he heard her first real sob, he hesitated. He glanced back at the man in the hospital bed whose gaze never wavered from Susan, even once the doors slammed shut behind her.

"What happened?" he demanded of the stranger.

"I do not think she was expecting to see me. Nor I her."

"And who the hell are you?" Natasha demanded as she appeared next to Steve.

The man jumped slightly, not having heard her approach. But he answered anyway, drawing himself up in the same fashion that Susan occasionally did. "I am King Caspian, the tenth."

Steve froze, hand balling into a fist at his side. "Caspian...you're Caspian? From Narnia?"

"She told you of Narnia?" Caspian asked, his gaze fixating on Steve. "Who are you?"

"Captain Steve Rogers," Steve answered, unconsciously giving his title.

"Well, Captain, perhaps you could explain where I am...and how I got here?" Caspian requested, turning wary eyes on the machines in the room.

Whatever feelings Steve had been struggling with (no, it certainly wasn't jealousy) faded at the man's question. He had been in Caspian's position before, knew what kind of confusion the man was feeling. He owed him the truth. "It's a long story," he sighed. "I can't possibly tell you everything, but a good place to start is about a year ago when Susan arrived…"