Chapter 3
The ride back to the tower was quiet.
Noah sat in the backseat again, arms crossed, gaze distant. The apartment, the city, the time-traveling or resurrection or whatever the hell had happened—it was all a mess of unanswered questions swirling in his mind.
Nothing made sense.
And somehow, the fact that Steve and Bucky were sitting beside him, alive and older, only made it more surreal.
When they finally reached the tower, Tony stretched as he stepped out of the car. “Alright, now that we’ve successfully escaped the Twilight Zone, let’s get you settled in.”
Noah raised an eyebrow. “Didn’t recall signin’ up to stay here.”
Tony gestured toward the building. “You got a better option?”
Noah didn’t answer. Because, really, he didn’t.
“Thought so,” Tony said. “Come on, I’ll even let you raid the kitchen.”
Noah rolled his eyes but followed them inside. The elevator ride up was just as quiet as the drive, tension hanging thick in the air.
When they reached their intended floor, Steve clapped a hand on his shoulder. “Come on, let’s sit down for a bit.”
Noah hesitated but followed, letting them lead him into the common room. He sank into the couch while Bucky leaned against the armrest, arms crossed. Steve sat across from him, hands clasped together, expression unreadable.
A beat of silence.
Then, finally, Steve asked, “That’s really all you remember?”
Noah hesitated. Then nodded. “Yeah.”
Another pause.
Then Noah exhaled, running a hand through his hair. “Alright. My turn.” He looked at them, eyes steady. “What the hell happened to you two?”
Steve and Bucky exchanged glances, as if silently deciding where to even begin.
And then they told him.
They told him about how Steve went down with the Valkyrie, about how the world moved on without him—until he woke up seventy years later, lost in a time that wasn’t his own.
They told him about how Bucky survived his fall, only to be taken by HYDRA, brainwashed and turned into the Winter Soldier—a ghost who killed in the dark, a name feared across decades.
They told him about everything—S.H.I.E.L.D. falling, HYDRA’s infiltration, the Avengers, the battles, the wars.
Noah listened, silent, unmoving, absorbing it all.
And then, finally, Steve finished with, “We searched for you. Through every network, different countries—everything. But we found nothing.”
Noah sighed, leaning back against the couch. “Well,” he muttered, “guess I really was dead, then.”
Neither of them spoke.
After a moment, Noah hesitated, then asked, voice quieter, “What about my Ma?”
Bucky and Steve shared a look.
Then Steve answered, voice gentle, “She passed. Back then.”
Noah swallowed. His throat felt tight. He hadn’t expected anything different, but still…
“She’s buried in Evergreens,” Steve continued. “If you want to visit—”
Noah nodded. “Yeah.” Then, softer, “But not right now.”
His fingers curled slightly against his knee.
“I just… I think I need to adjust to all of this first.”
Steve nodded. Bucky didn’t say anything, but his gaze was understanding.
For now, they let the silence settle between them.
There would be time for everything else later.
Noah let out a slow breath, leaning back into the couch. His head rested against the cushion, eyes tracing the ceiling as if he could make sense of everything written there. He couldn't.
Steve and Bucky were here. He was here. His mother was gone. The world had changed beyond recognition.
And somehow, he was still alive.
Steve clapped a hand on his shoulder, grounding him. “Come on, I’ll show you your room.”
Noah hesitated but nodded, letting Steve lead the way.
The guest room was modern, sleek, and pristine—everything his old place wasn’t. The bed looked way too comfortable, the furniture too polished, the city sprawled outside the massive windows.
Too much. Too different.
Steve leaned against the doorway, watching him take it in. “I know it’s a lot,” he said, voice calm. “You don’t have to figure it all out tonight.”
Noah let out a slow breath and nodded.
Steve gave him a small, knowing smile. “Get some rest. We’ll worry about it tomorrow.”
Noah didn’t reply, just sat on the edge of the bed as Steve left the room, the door clicking softly shut behind him.
The exhaustion hit him all at once. His body ached, his mind spun, and despite everything, he let himself sink back into the unfamiliar bed.
For the first time since waking up in this impossible future, he allowed himself to close his eyes.
There would be time for answers later.
--
Noah woke up to the unfamiliar sensation of a bed that wasn’t his. It felt strange, waking up in a world where everything was foreign.
He ran a hand down his face, exhaling. It hadn’t been a dream. He was still here, in the future. The world had moved on—without him, without his mother, without the life he once knew. The weight of the past and present pressed against his chest. The world had changed beyond recognition.
And somehow, he was still alive.
“Alright,” he muttered, forcing his focus back on the present. “So what happens now?”
Before he could sink deeper into his thoughts, FRIDAY’s voice echoed through the room. “Mr. Bishop, Breakfast is ready, and Captain Rogers has requested that I inform you when you have woken up. Him and Sergeant Barnes are waiting for you in the kitchen.”
He startled, blinking up at the ceiling. It still threw him off—how the voice came from nowhere, how the ceiling wasn’t cracking or water-stained, how he was here at all.
But after a few seconds, he exhaled, scrubbing a hand over his face. “Right. Yeah, I’m comin’.”
With a heavy sigh, he got up.
The kitchen was already lively by the time he got there. Steve and Bucky were there, of course, but so were a handful of others—people he didn’t recognize. The Avengers.
“Ah, Sleeping Beauty awakens,” Tony announced, gesturing at Noah with a fork. “About time. We were starting to think you’d gone back to the Land Before Time in your sleep.”
Noah rolled his eyes. “That a movie?”
Tony grinned. “You’re already learning.”
Noah slid into a seat next to Bucky and he passed him a plate without comment. He eyeing the plate in front of him. The food looked normal enough—eggs, toast, some bacon. At least some things hadn’t changed.
As he started eating, Steve cleared his throat. “Figured it’s about time we introduced you to the rest of the team.”
Noah nodded, as he took another bite. Steve cleared his throat. “Alright, everybody, this is Noah Bishop. He’s an old friend of ours, and he’s gonna be staying here for a while.”
There were a few nods around the table, a few “Nice to meet you”s and some curious glances.
Tony smirked. “And when he says old, he means old. This guy fought in World War II. You might as well be Captain America’s long-lost brother.”
Noah snorted. “Yeah, except I didn’t get a fancy serum to make me look like I haven’t aged a day.”
Sam Wilson, who Noah had just been introduced to, smirked. “Damn. Even sounds like you, Cap.”
Steve sighed.
The introductions continued as they sat around the table, plates pushed aside in favor of conversation.
Natasha Romanoff leaned back in her chair, giving Noah a once-over before offering a small smirk. “Natasha. Romanoff. You can call me Natasha.”
Noah raised an eyebrow. “Russian?”
She tilted her head slightly. “Something like that.”
Next to her, a man adjusted his glasses and gave a polite nod. “Dr. Bruce Banner. Scientist. And sometimes a giant green rage monster.”
Noah blinked. “A what? **You say that like you’re talkin’ bout the weather.”
Bruce sighed. “I’ve had practice.”
Before Noah could press further, the red-haired woman beside Bruce spoke up. “Wanda Maximoff,” she introduced, her accent lilting. “I do magic.”
Noah’s eyebrows shot up. “Like a magician?”
A new voice answered instead. “Not quite.”
Noah turned toward the speaker and immediately tensed. The man—if he was a man—was unlike anything he had ever seen. Red skin, an eerie calm presence, and a glowing gem embedded in his forehead.
“I am Vision,” the being said, his voice unnervingly composed. “An artificial intelligence given synthetic form.”
Noah stared, his fingers tapping against the table as he tried to process that. His mind instinctively flickered back to the 1940s—the clunky, whirring machines, the wires and radio transmitters, the absolute limit of technology at the time.
Noah stared for a moment. “You’re… a robot?”
“I prefer synthezoid.”
“Ok…so you tellin me,” Noah started slowly, gesturing at Vision, “that they finally made a thinkin’ machine? Walkin’, talkin’, all on its own?”
Vision inclined his head. “Correct.”
Noah looked at Steve and Bucky, then back at Vision. “You’re telling me this guy isn’t the strangest part of my day?”
Tony grinned. “Oh, buddy, you wish this was as weird as it gets.”
Noah let out a low whistle. “Howard Stark would’ve lost his damn mind.”
Steve huffed out a laugh. “You should’ve seen Tony’s dad when he got a car to hover for five seconds. Thought he changed the world.”
Bucky smirked. “Yeah, until it crashed.”
Tony rolled his eyes. “Oh, sure, let’s all focus on the one time it didn’t work. Never mind that it was decades ahead of its time.”
Noah snorted. “Decades ahead, huh? That man swore up and down we’d have flyin’ cars by now. All I see out there are the same old four wheels, just with shinier paint.”
Tony held up a finger. “First of all, rude. Second, we do have flying cars—they’re just not for regular people.”
Noah shook his head in disbelief. “You future folks are a real letdown.”
Bucky clapped him on the back. “Welcome to the modern world.”
Before Noah could respond, another voice cut in.
“Clint Barton.” The man across from him leaned back in his chair, arms crossed. “I shoot arrows.”
Noah barely registered the words. His whole body stiffened at the name. “Barton?”
Clint raised an eyebrow. “Yeah?”
For a moment, Noah just looked at him. The name rang in his ears, dragging him back decades—to trenches, gunfire, and a man he’d fought beside. Barton. But not this one. This guy was too young. Had to be a coincidence.
Still, the unease didn’t shake so easily. He cleared his throat, forcing his tone back to casual. “And, uh… arrows?”
Clint smirked. “Really, really well.”
Bucky clapped Noah on the shoulder, grinning. “Welcome to the team.”
Noah exhaled, rubbing a hand down his face. “This is the future, huh?”
Steve sighed. “Yeah.”
“And this is who I’m stuck with.”
Tony clapped his hands together. “Oh, you are so gonna love it here.”
It was a lot to take in, but at least they weren’t overwhelming him.
Well. Except for Tony.
"By the way," Tony said suddenly, waving a hand at Noah, "after this, we're getting you some actual clothes, because right now, you look like you walked straight out of a history textbook."
Noah looked at Tony, brow furrowed, then turned toward the fridge. The dull metal surface caught his reflection, and for the first time since this whole mess began, he actually looked at himself.
The wool uniform, worn and creased. The scuffed-up boots, caked with dirt from a battlefield long gone. The jacket, weathered and cracked, bearing every scrape and scar of the war he’d left behind.
"...Hell," he muttered, brushing a hand down his sleeve. "No wonder folks were givin’ me looks on the way here."
"No shit," Clint deadpanned.
Noah exhaled through his nose. "Thought it was ‘cause I looked lost as hell."
"You did," Bucky said with a smirk. "But mostly, you looked like a ghost that crawled straight outta 1944."
"Which, to be fair," Sam added, "ain't far from the truth."
Noah dragged a hand down his face. "Great. So I ain't just lost, I look like a damn museum piece."
Tony clapped his hands together. "Which brings me back to my point—clothes. Before people start asking for autographs."
Noah sighed. "Fine. Just—nothin’ screwy, Stark."
"No promises," Tony said, already tapping away on his device. "I’m thinking something classic. Maybe a nice Hawaiian shirt."
Noah groaned.
"Speaking of museums," Sam cut in with a grin, "you know they actually got an exhibit on Cap and Barnes?"
Noah blinked. "An exhibit?"
"The Smithsonian," Steve explained. "It's a museum. Big one. And it’s not just us Sam. It was for everybody who fought in the war." He added, frowning.
"Yeah yeah, anyways, they got a whole section on Cap, Bucky and the Howling Commandos," Sam said. "Old uniforms, letters, war stories—"
"And photos," Clint added with a smirk.
Noah arched a brow. "Photos?" He turned to Steve, a slow grin creeping onto his face. "Before the serum?"
Clint whistled low. "Oh yeah. Front and center. Can’t miss ‘em."
Steve sighed, looking about two seconds away from regretting everything.
Bucky smirked. “It’s practically the first thing you see walking in. Scrawny Steve in all his glory.”
Steve exhaled through his nose, unimpressed. “Glad to know my struggles are a museum attraction.”
Natasha, leaning against the counter, smirked. “It’s educational.”
Bruce adjusted his glasses. “It’s also a fascinating historical record. The transformation itself—”
“—was very dramatic,” Wanda finished, grinning.
Vision tilted his head. “It is an impressive display of physical change. Though I must say, I find the modern admiration of muscular physiques to be quite curious.”
Steve crossed his arms. “Are we done analyzing me?”
Noah chuckled, shaking his head. “I dunno, Stevie. I think history deserves the full story.”
Tony clapped his hands. “Finally! Someone else roasting Capsicle 1.0. I’m loving this.”
Steve sighed. “Wonderful.”
“Alright, fun’s over,” Tony continued. “Clothes. You’re welcome. And after that, we’re making sure you don’t accidentally trigger Armageddon by pressing the wrong button.”
Noah raised an eyebrow. “That happen often?”
Clint nodded. “You’d be surprised.”
Bruce sighed. “More often than it should.”
Steve just sighed. “Tony’s right, though. You should start getting used to things now. The world’s different, and we’re here to help.”
Tony ignored the others, grinning. “Lesson one: cell phones. Lesson two: the internet. Lesson three: how not to get scammed online—”
Noah sighed, already feeling a headache coming on.
This was going to be a long day.