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Everything is so...cold.
Steve Rogers, better known to the world as Captain America, was going to die. He knew it. Sure, Steve had been in plenty of life threatening situations before. Many of them were worse than the predicament that he currently faced. Danger was a part of the job. Danger had encapsulated Steve's life ever since he agreed to take part in an experiment that would change the face of the world. Project: Rebirth had ripped Rogers from the comfort of his impossibly ordinary life and thrust him into the extraordinary world of super spies, Nazi dictators, scientific nightmares and mythical monsters. Steve had wanted this. He had asked for the danger. Practically begged for it. Some had called him nothing more than a thrill seeker. His neighbors had thought that skinny little Steve Rogers only wanted to go to Europe so he could kill Nazis. Steve had never been about that. He didn't want to kill anyone. When he watched the propaganda reels before movies or listened to the battle reports on the radio, Steve had seen only one thing in Germany: bullies. And Steve Rogers didn't like bullies. So he tried to sign up for the Army. Many, many, many...many times. They never let him in, no matter what he tried to do. It wasn't until that fateful encounter with Doctor Abraham Erskine's aide that Steve was given the chance to fight for what he believed in.
That life would soon be behind him. Freezing water surrounded the sinking body of Captain America. He desperately struggled against the current, trying and failing to swim toward the surface. His muscles screamed in horrific agony, begging Steve to stop moving. Every bone in his body ached, demanding that Rogers just stay still. A sharp pain stabbed through Cap's skull, threatening to tear his cranium in half. Darkness appeared at the edges of Steve's vision. He was losing consciousness. The American war hero kicked at the water beneath him, flailing and thrashing about. Despite all of his strength, despite all of his skill, despite all of his unbreakable resolve...Captain America could not win. This is it, isn't it? This is the end. He had fought so hard, only to end up here. Dying in the middle of the Atlantic Ocean. Not the heroic ending I'd always imagined for myself. Steve mused as water rushed into his lungs. I'll miss you, Peggy. Tell Bucky I- wait. Bucky. Barnes is still stuck on that island, fighting Kleiser. He can't beat that kraut on his own...I gotta help him.
I'm comin', Bucky...Just hang on. I'm comin'-
Light poured into Captain America's eyes. It stung like hell. It was as if he hadn't opened his eyes in nearly a century. Steve couldn't feel anything. Every appendage, digit and organ was numb. He was so cold he swore he was on fire. Rogers struggled with all of his might to move even a centimeter. But he was encircled by ice. Where am I? His thoughts were groggy and unfocused. His vision was starting to return; that was good news. Somewhere in the distance, a quiet beeping repeated itself. Where am I? What is this place? Doesn't look like the Pearly Gates...And I imagine Hell would be a bit hotter. Life flowed into Steve's hands. He could twitch them now. Feeling returned to his toes. He felt stronger with every passing moment. The cold was rapidly evaporating as well. I- Is this a coffin? Got to get outta here. Captain America flexed his super soldier serum enhanced muscles, shattering the ice around him. He shoved his knee through the frozen water over and over, digging a small hole in the home grown glacier. It wasn't until flesh met metal that Cap paused in the endeavor. What could that be? So many questions- now its time for some answers! Captain America wound his fist back as far as he could in the tiny space, throwing it forward with all of his might into the metal object in front of him.
The front of the cyropod flew off, right in the back of an unsuspecting AIM scientist. The other guards turned toward the source of the attack, finding only the freezing mist rushing from the now open pod. An AIM goon raised his rifle in the direction of the pod. The man took a tentative step forward. "What th-" A lone shadow appeared in the mist. It didn't move, yet it looked almost...humanoid. "He's awake!" Was all the agent could shout before he was over taken by the shadow and pulled into the expanding fog. One of his companions went flying away, shrieking as he was catapulted twenty feet into the air and out of sight. Glass shattered, a red fist effortlessly smashing through one of the scientist's helmets to punch the man inside right in the nose. The others were incapacitated in short order. Whatever took them down had yet to step into the light.
A powerful arm wrapped around Sam Wilson's throat. Another gripped the hand wielding the shield. Whoever was holding him down was impossibly strong. The voice that followed had been heard and adored by millions; yet few had heard it uttered in such a threatening tone and lived to tell the tale. "I don't know why you're dressed like that or why you have my shield, son, but you have three seconds to tell me where you're holding Bucky Barnes. Or else."
