A/N: It's been a long time since I worked on this story, but here is the 2nd chapter! I watched Winter Soldier recently and it got me thinking about this fic haha There will only be 2 more chapters after this and then it'll be over!

Chapter 2

Steve cracked his neck side to side as he walked down the hall to his apartment. He felt loose and tired after spending the day working out in SHEILD's state of the arc gym. The window at the end of the hallways showed the sun beginning to set, casting a nice shade of orange over the never sleeping city of New York.

One of the traits of the apartment Steve liked was it was older. It had its few moldy spots, and the air-conditioner didn't quite get the job done, but that was okay. It reminded Steve of the old apartment he had shared with Bucky before the war broke out. Sometimes if he put on a bit of the music he remembered and closed his while sitting on the old wooden floor, he could almost imagine he was back home. It's the only reason he had yet to move into Stark's newly named Avenger's Tower with the others. Of course he didn't believe one second that the others didn't have other living arrangements and safe houses across the country. Well, maybe not Bruce or Thor.

Steve unlocked his creaky door, smiling politely at his neighbor as she left for her nursing duties for the night. He had picked up his mail on the way up and now he shuffled through it mindlessly. The stack was a bit thicker than usual, with the normal advertisements, bills, and a letter from the senior home that Peggy stayed at explaining the visiting hours would be changing to accommodate the holiday season. Steve glanced out a window at the snow drifting lazily past. He shivered a bit and pulled a blanket from the couch, throwing it over his shoulders in comfort. He didn't really get cold, but he was still uncomfortable being cold after being in ice for seventy years.

There was a heavier, manila envelope at the bottom of the stack and Steve recognized Stark's logo on the front and seal. He tore it open and read the unfolded letter in it.

To Steve,

Tony has once again gone and put his nose where it doesn't belong, but… I think this time his heart is set in the right place. This is just one of the one's he's tracked down, but I'm sure there are more. You're welcome to come and get them whenever you want, and maybe yell a little at Tony for me :)

Signed, Pepper Pots CEO of Stark Industries

Steve up-ended the manila envelope and out tumbled an older envelope and a plastic wrapped photo. He picked up the photo first and stared at the black and white image of him, Bucky, and a few other soldiers, all smiling at the camera. They were bandaged and one was on crutches, but their smiles mirrored that of a kid on Christmas morning. He brushed a thumb over all of their faces and took a deep breathe. He vaguely remembered that moment, just after saving the men from the Hydra base in Italy. They had cornered him and corralled him into a picture, Bucky being dragged along as well with a humored smirk.

The photo was beginning to shake and Steve dropped it back on the table, picking up the envelope. He didn't want to read it, didn't want to hear the words of gratitude that were really meant for all those soldiers, the ones who had been captured but never broke. The ones who had inspired him to be better.

He tore open the seal and unfolded the paper gently, the same paper from a soldier's journal as the last letter.

To Captain America, aka Captain S. Rogers

Woowee, I honestly thought I was going to die. You saved us all Captain and I'm really grateful for the picture. You looked about as uncomfortable as a hen with a fox!
With all respect though, I really am in your debt. My Ma kept telling me to be careful, but it's war, what can you do? After all this is over she's probably going to invite you over with Barnes to thank you. You'll like my Ma's Sheppard's pie, it's the best!

Signed, Private Michael Jancks

PS, edited May 9th, 1945

To Captain America, aka Captain S. Rogers

We won the war Captain. We all went to your memorial and a lot of the guys cried. We all did actually. Dugan and Falsworth bought everyone a round at the bar and I invited everyone to visit for some Sheppard's pie.
We couldn't have done this without you Captain.

Signed, Private Michael Jancks

Steve sprang from his chair, leaving the letter on the table and the quilt on the floor, running to the bathroom. He gripped the sink edge, slouching against it as he shook, feeling a heaviness in his chest that seemed to want to drag him to the Earth's core.

The man's words were so light-hearted and happy as he talked about his mother, about inviting Steve over as a thank you. It broke Steve's heart a little as he imagined all of his friends and comrades fighting the war without him and leaving them to mourn his death.

Half an hour went by before Steve could trust himself not to cry and he reluctantly trudged back to the table. He began to slide everything back into the manila envelope when a tiny slip of paper fell out of the plastic from behind the photo. Steve eyed it warily and picked it up, flipping it over to read the note scribble hastily on the back in Tony Stark's hand-writing.

Xxxxxx xxxxx Senior home, 5th street, New York

Steve swallowed nervously as he walked down the hall of the senior home he had located. The receptionist at the desk had given him the room number happily after realizing he was Captain America.

Room 402.

Steve heard whispering on the other side of the door and he knocked gently. Footsteps approached and an old man appeared, cradling a baby wrapped up in a soft yellow blanket. He frowned at Steve, one eyebrow raised in a questioning gaze.

"Um, hello sir," Steve managed to keep his words steady. "My name is Steve Rogers, and I'm looking for Michael Jancks? The receptionist said this was his room."

The old man's eyes widened and he took a step back, opening the door wider for Steve to step in. "Well I'll be darn. The name's Steven Jancks, I'm his son. It's nice to meet you Captain."

Steve stepped into the room and looked around. It was plain, with a few photos and flowers decorating it. Steve recognized the same photo Stark had sent him hanging on the wall. Steve must have gotten a copy. The man lying in the hospital bed was as old as the photo. He was weathered looking, his skin folded and wrinkled from too many days working in the sun. His white wispy hair was almost non-existent and his hands lay still at his sides. The heart monitor beeped quietly and an oxygen tank pumped air into his feeble lungs. Steve didn't know if he had ever met someone as old as this man.

He approached the bed as the son stepped out of the room, giving them some time alone. The old man, Michael, opened his eyes slowly and watched Steve approach and sit down by the bed. He made no indication that he even knew who Steve was.

"Good day Mr. Jancks, I don't know if you remember me-"

"Good day Captain Rogers," Michael cut him off and though the voice was soft and drifting, there was a smile in it. Steve chuckled with the man as his old eyes crinkled. "It's good to see you walking about sir."

"Not as good as it is to see you sir," For Steve there were no tears in his eyes or heaviness in his gut this time, just a serene quiet, like the sunlight on a lazy afternoon.

Steve listened as the man who was once his brother in arms recounted his life after the war and things Steve had missed with his fellow soldiers. The afternoon grew long and the sun lowered, but Steve sat there until after visitor hours had long passed and the man drifted off into slumber. He left a note for the man's son, apologizing for interrupting their time together, and then he left, feeling like he was saying good-bye to a family member forever.

R&R please!