Meanwhile, In A Dimension Far Far Away...
Stark Tower, New York City— The Winter Soldier a.k.a. the late Captain America a.k.a. the man who was once Steven Grant Rogers was waking up to a reality he didn't recognise. You already know what happens to him. This is the story of The Captain a.k.a. the former Captain America a.k.a. Steven Grant Rogers and he was waking up in the last place he wanted to be…
Cold.
It was the first sensation to hit Steve as he woke. It didn't bother him; the cold hadn't been more than an annoyance for him since 1940, but it was strange since he hadn't cranked up the air conditioner before getting into bed. Now that he was thinking about it, he wasn't actually in bed. It was that realisation that set off alarm bells, blue eyes snapping open to be greeted by the sight of swirling cold air and rising yellow glass.
What—
Before he could finish his thought the cold fog dissipated and Steve found himself face-to-face with a man wearing a very confused expression. And a HYDRA uniform. Thought became irrelevant as the Captain's instincts took over, the man's fingers curling into a fist as he hauled off and slugged the HYDRA goon in the face. The response was immediate, muzzle flash lighting up the darkness around him.
Adrenaline surging through his veins Steve could feel his heartbeat thundering hot and loud in his ears as he jumped from the platform he found himself on. He pulled his legs up tucking them against his chest, curling up into a ball that would be the perfect size to hide behind his shield, if he had his shield. Without it he was exposed, one of the bullets finding a home in his thigh. Only— the Captain's brow furrowed as he hit the ground, tucking and rolling to protect himself— only, whatever hit him wasn't a bullet. The round had been painful, but it hadn't broken the skin, some kind of ammunition designed for crowd control.
Not having the luxury of thinking on the implications of that, Steve pushed himself to his feet and started running. Now literal alarm bells were going off around him, yellow light flashing over his skin. It wasn't until he was dropping into a slide that would have gotten him home free in the 1920's, but now just managed to take out the legs of a HYDRA thug dropping him hard, that Steve realised he wasn't wearing his pyjamas. Instead, he was in some kind of heavy tactical gear all the way down to a pair of combat boots laced high and tight around his ankles. Again, pushing his thoughts as to what the hell was going on to the back of his mind Steve focused on finding somewhere safe. Not that he expected there to be anywhere safe in what he was assuming was a HYDRA base, but at least somewhere he could breathe and get his bearings straight.
Turning a corner Steve's luck ran out, the blond running headlong into quite possibly the biggest man he had ever laid eyes on (excluding Thanos, but Steve didn't really consider the Titan a man, per se). Physically bouncing off the man's chest Steve stumbled back, palms catching himself on his knees so that he didn't fall over, blue eyes narrowed in a glare. "You have got to be shitting me."
The man in front of him grinned, mouth splitting wide so that Steve could see he was missing a tooth in the back and three other teeth glinted gold. "I собираюсь enjoy разгромом you."
Why'd it have to be Russian? Steve's Russian was better than it was in the 40's, but that was only because he started teaching himself again after what happened to Bucky…happened. Unfortunately, he had been somewhat distracted by being an international fugitive and the intergalactic threat of Thanos to get very far in his studies. Despite all that he was pretty sure this guy wasn't saying he was going to enjoy helping him.
Blowing out a hard breath Steve pushed off his knees so he was standing up straight, hands on his hips, his 'Captain' face on in spite of his complete lack of paraphernalia. "Now, there's two ways this can g—" Before he could even finish the sentence the man was swinging and Steve was ducking. Twisting his hips Cap came back hard with an uppercut that would have floored an average man— this guy barely flinched. Steve acted before the brute could retaliate, not wanting to find out how hard those meat hooks hit. Jumping to the side he kicked off the wall and spun in the air, his thighs wrapping around the other man's head, muscles bulging as he used his momentum and super-soldier strength to his advantage, flipping the Russian off his feet and slamming him onto his back. Ever the perfectionist he could hear Nat's voice in his head pointing out how he could have done it better, but he ignored the voice in favour of squeezing his thighs, arching his back, and twisting his hips with enough force that there was a snap! before the giant of a man went limp.
Untangling himself from his opponent the Captain rolled free, surging to his feet. Normally, he did his best to avoid casualties, but this situation was far from normal. He was in hostile territory with no idea how he got there, and no idea if he had any sort of back up coming. Not to mention the fact he was in a HYDRA base of all places, they were the one group he had no compunctions about killing.
The entirety of the fight had last maybe thirty seconds and Steve could hear boots pounding against the floor coming in his direction. Risking the eight seconds it would take Cap stripped the dead man of his visible weapons and then he was running again.
Hide.
The thought was running on a loop in his head, and as much as it bothered him to admit it he knew he needed to find somewhere to hunker down. Not even the Captain could take on an entire HYDRA base with just his fists. Hiding had never really been his thing was the problem, and it was as he was wracking his brain trying to figure out where the best place to start looking for a hiding spot would be that he remembered something Clint had told him about why he always went for the maximum distance off the ground that he could get on missions, that he could see better from a distance, that it was safer with his feet off the ground. Blue eyes flicked up to the various infrastructure and machinery lining the walls. They must have been underground because even his eyes could barely see the ceiling it was so high up.
That could work.
Pulling a hard left Steve kept running full tilt until he found an alcove set apart from the open centre of the base. Without stopping, or even slowing, the Captain threw himself at another wall, but this time he was climbing it, throwing himself to the next handhold when he couldn't find one in reach. Eventually, he managed to find a space between two pipes he could squeeze between, the super-soldier rolling into a dusty hole that smelled like a combination of mould and wet. It quickly narrowed into a crawlspace he wasn't sure his hips could clear, a service tunnel of some kind perhaps. Head thudding back against damp metal Steve closed his eyes as the adrenaline crash hit him, a hard exhale blowing past his lips. He didn't care what it was, just that, apparently, no one had seen him slip in and so, for the moment, he was safe.
