On her day off, Sheila decided to visit the Smithsonian Museum to see the Captain America Exhibit. She was curious about who this man was after he had told her everything about himself. She had always loved history ever since her grandfather would share his tales about surviving World War II as a child and fighting in the Korean War as a young man.

She approached the Exhibit to see pictures of the man that was indeed Steve Rogers. The narrator of the exhibit spoke on a loudspeaker.

"A symbol of the nation. A hero to the world. The story of Captain America is one of honor, bravery and sacrifice."

Sheila looked at the images of Steve Rogers as she listened to the narrator about the story of how Steve became the first super soldier.

"Denied enlistment due to poor health, Steven Rogers was chosen for a program unique in the annals of American warfare. One that would transform him into the world's first super soldier."

The redhead saw images of Steve--a skinny, sickly young man who stood at 5'4" who weighed only 95 pounds. Then post-serum, he became a 6'2" and weighed at 208 pounds. A tall, broad, bronzed Greek god--a super soldier. The embodiment of perfection. So what Steve said was correct: the serum made him heal faster than the average human--his broken bones, his concussion, internal bleeding, the bullet and stab wounds, all his ailments—they were gone. She had so many questions about the serum—yet she wanted to know more about the man himself who became Captain America.

Sheila continued to move to another part of the exhibit to see all the things that belonged to Steve--toys, a bicycle, clothes, photographs of his childhood apartment and his family, the first shield and costume he used while doing the USO tours, the original motorcycle he rode during World War II and his battle uniform and the original uniforms belonging to a group of soldiers called the Howling Commandos.

"Battle tested, Captain America and his Howling Commandos quickly earned their stripes. Their mission: taking down HYDRA, the Nazi rogue science division."

She would have to ask about them. While viewing the rest of the exhibit, there was a memorial to a fallen comrade named Bucky Barnes. Born 1917 and died 1944.

"Best friends since childhood, Bucky Barnes and Steven Rogers were inseparable on both schoolyard and battlefield. Barnes is the only Howling Commando to give his life in service of his country."

She saw a black and white silent video of the two men standing together, smiling and laughing. Sheila felt tears well up in her eyes--she had lost many friends in her journey. She couldn't imagine what it was like to lose a best friend in battle.

She went into a movie theater to see an interview from 1953 with a woman named Peggy Carter, agent of SSR who talked about Steve.

"That was a difficult winter. A blizzard had trapped half a battalion behind the German line," Peggy spoke. "Steve—Captain Rogers—fought his way through a HYDRA blockade that had pinned our allies down for months. He saved over a thousand men. Including the man who would become my husband."

After seeing all this, Sheila had never realized how brave this man was. He was truly an American hero. Yet it was pretty sad--this poor man was all alone in the world and everyone he knew from his time was probably long gone. She couldn't imagine how lonely and scary it was for Steve to wake up in a time that was not his own. Was he still OK with being in this time? Did he miss his past?

While watching the Peggy Carter interview, her phone rang, interrupting her thoughts. Some people groaned at the sound and she apologized and quickly exited the theater to answer the phone call.

"Hello?" she said.

Sighing, she heard Gloria Archer, the administrator on the other line, asking her to come into work despite it being her day off. They were short staffed because one of the nurses had called out sick. She responded she would be there and headed to work. Jogging down the path towards the exit, she headed to her home to change into her scrubs before going to work.

Once back at the hospital, Sheila looked over Steve's discharge papers since they needed to be signed. She knocked on the door, which responded for her to come in. She opened the door, holding her laptop and vitals cart in hand. Her glasses slid off her nose.

"Shit..." she uttered a little too loud. Then froze when she realized something.

"Language!" Steve scolded.

"Oh God...sorry...that was unprofessional! Please don't tell my boss," she said, fumbling to put her glasses back on. "I've been written up enough for swearing already."

"I won't say anything," Steve promised. "As long as you don't curse like that again."

"Can't promise you that," she said, looking over her glasses. "I grew up in Detroit--swearing is our native language."

Steve laughed. "You're a city girl, huh?" he said.

"Indeed," she said. "I grew up in urban part of Detroit up until I was 10...then, I lived mostly with my grandparents for two years when my parents got divorced. Then I moved to an upper middle class suburb when my mother got remarried."

"Oh. What made you come to DC?" he asked.

"Job opportunities," Sheila said. "I did live in upstate New York for a while. My grandfather owned a small chicken farm after he retired from his job as an accountant. I worked for him--mostly taking care of his chickens, gathering eggs, working the farmer's market stand."

"I see," Steve said. "You moved a lot."

"Yea. I always felt like I didn't belong anywhere," she said. "Moving around was a way for me to find myself. In high school, my parents and I had a falling out so I stayed with my grandfather on his farm in the Hudson Valley on the condition that I earn my keep and stay out of trouble. He's a pain, but he's the only loving family I have."

Sheila didn't want to tell Steve about how messed up her life was. She was still searching for her Dad—she had posted a photograph of him on Facebook in hopes of finding him one day. Ever since he left when she was only 10, she had wondered where he had gone. Clearing her throat, she decided to focus on her task.

"Anyway, I have your discharge papers. Try not to get into any more fights."

"Can't promise you that, Nurse Donovan," Steve said with a light chuckle.

Sheila laughed lightly, taking Steve's vitals one last time and writing them in her notes on her laptop. Steve watched as the nurse worked diligently in taking blood pressure. She gazed up at Steve over her glasses, seeing how blue his eyes were. They were an ocean blue with flecks of green. Then focused on his blood pressure, watching the needle and listening for sounds before making notes in her mind. Steve liked her gentle demeanor as a nurse—it took him back to his mother. She worked hard and was very caring when Steve was sickly child. He learned a few skills from her in case his colleagues were injured.

"So...I went to the Smithsonian to see the Captain America Exhibit," she said, removing the blood pressure cuff. "It was very amazing. I had no idea you did all that stuff."

Steve gave a small smile at the redhead. "Thank you," he said.

"I really liked hearing about the Howling Commandos," she said. "They didn't talk too much about them. They sound like a cool group of dudes."

"Yea," Steve said with a sad chuckle. "They were."

"Oh. And also I learned about your friend, Bucky too," Sheila said. "I'm really sorry."

A sensation of sadness rose up inside the super soldier when she mentioned his name. Flashbacks since he fought his friend on the helicarrier. How he ended up surviving from the fall was fuzzy. He had a vague memory of someone dragging him to shore, feeling weak. Next thing he knew he woke up in the hospital.

"Thank you," he said grateful.

"Well...before I let you go," Sheila said. "You'll just have to sign these papers."

Sheila laid out a bunch of release papers in front of Steve--it had instructions for aftercare once he left the hospital, which included follow-up appointments. She didn't think Steve would need it, but she would just recommend it.

"Do you have a primary care physician?" Sheila asked.

"I'll find one once I leave," Steve promised.

"Oh...um...alright," Sheila said. "Just follow the instructions on there and there's a phone number if you have any questions or concerns."

"Thank you," he said.

Once Steve had been discharged from the hospital, he got a mysterious text to meet him at a graveyard. He found Sam Wilson there as well, staring at the grave of Nick Fury.

"So, you've experienced this sort of thing before?" Nick said.

"You get used to it," Steve said.

After being on ice for 70 years, he had found out that everyone from his time had thought he was dead. He found out most of the Howling Commandos and Howard Stark was dead. Peggy was still alive and he'd visit her at the nursing home. There were times she didn't know Steve. The nurses there explained that Peggy had Alzheimers and it was getting progressively worse each day. Steve committed to helping Peggy remember him and things she did in the past--she often was happy to see Steve when he came to visit. He was saddened that the girl he loved had moved on in life, had a family of her own and grown old. He was a man out of time--stuck in this youthful body since he got frozen on ice.

"We've been data mining HYDRA's files," Nick continued. "Looks like a lot of rats didn't go down with the ship."

Steve frowned in disappointment upon hearing that HYDRA wasn't completely destroyed. He had spent years taking down the science division with the Howling Commandos since the 1940s only to find out it was still there under their noses all along. He had found out that HYDRA had been hiding under SHIELD all these years since Arnim Zola was hired to work for them during Operation: Paper Clip (according to Natasha). And they had been growing ever since and they had taken over SHIELD so he--along with Natasha, Sam, Nick Fury and Maria Hill decided to destroy SHIELD once and for all.

"I'm heading to Europe tonight," Fury said. "Wanted to ask if you'd come."

"There's something I gotta do first," Steve said.

Nick Fury nodded understandingly. Work never ended for Captain America and he turned his gaze towards Sam Wilson.

"How about you, Wilson? I could use a man with your skills," Fury asked.

"I'm more of a soldier than a spy," Sam answered.

"Alright then," Fury said with a nod.

The former SHIELD director shook hands with Sam and Steve before taking off to go into hiding. SHIELD had fallen. He would have to figure out what the next step was to rebuild it again.

"Anyone asks for me," Fury said. "Tell them they can find me right here." He gestured to the headstone.

"You should be honored," Natasha said. "That's as close as he gets to saying thank you."

"Not going with him?" Steve asked.

Natasha shook her head. "No."

"Not staying here?"

"I blew all my covers. I got go figure out a new one."

"It might take a while," Steve said.

"I'm counting on that," Nat said with a smile. After a beat, Nat held out a file in Russian. "That thing you asked for—called in a few favors from Kiev."

Steve took the file, looking it over with a furrowed brow.

"Will you do me a favor? Call that nurse," Nat said.

"Well, one nurse I met recently said she doesn't date patients," Steve said with a chuckle. "And the other isn't a nurse."

"You met another one? When?"

"At the hospital. Her name is Sheila. But I don't think I'll see her again."

"Well, you're not a SHIELD agent nor a patient."

"What was her name again?"

"Sharon. She's nice."

After a beat, Nat kissed Steve on the cheek to say goodbye before going into hiding for a while.

"Be careful, Steve. You might not want to pull on that thread," Nat said.

Just as Natasha walked away, Steve opened up the file, seeing the photo of the man that was kept on ice. It was James Buchanan "Bucky" Barnes. It confirmed everything he had feared: Bucky was the Winter Soldier.

"You're going after him, aren't you?" Sam said.

"You don't have to come with me," Steve said

"I know." After a beat, Sam turned to Steve. "When do we start?"