Living for Now

The black motorcycle pulled into the building's underground parking garage smoothly, the engine rumbling and echoing loudly throughout the maze of concrete walls as she drove through them. Once parking and killing the engine, she took off her black helmet and shook her head, her now free locks of brunette hair falling into place. Running her hands through her tresses, removing a few tangles in the process, she sighed and thought about anything else she could possibly do to keep herself from entering the building.

She knew once she step foot inside, there really was no going back. Though, knowing quite well that she couldn't stand in the garage for the rest of her life, she shook her limbs to try and loosen herself up before taking her helmet and walking off towards the exits.

She wasn't in New York when he had woken up a few weeks ago, and part of her was glad that she hadn't been. If she had been, she was sure that Nick would have had her dressed in her old 40s get-up rather than having another agent playing the part. Instead, she was on the other side of the country, putting new rookie field agents through hell, making sure they knew what they were in for and to also be sure that they were ready for the real deal. Right after he had woken up, she received Fury's call, and did her best to avoid returning back to her home state, but she knew she couldn't prevent the inevitable.

She knew that she'd have to face the music – and him – eventually.

As she passed through security checkpoints and other agents, she could feel her stomach churning inside with unease, and the closer she got, the feeling only grew worse.

“Spencer,”

Hearing her last name be called brought her to attention, and she turned to see Maria fast approaching. “Hill,” Bridget acknowledged with a nod of the head.

“Fury wanted me to escort you to his room. He doesn't trust you.”

Sighing, she nodded her head. “Yeah, I bet he wouldn't.”

The two brunettes made their way through a maze of hallways in a comfortable silence since neither woman was very chatty, and when they finally arrived at the room he was given for the time being, Bridget stared at the door and its knob apprehensively.

“You know you're only making it worse by thinking about it.” Maria blatantly told her, waiting for her to enter the room so she could leave and tend to her other responsibilities for the day. “It's best to just go in and get it over with.”

Bridget looked to the other agent and gave an agitated sigh, taking out a pair of dark tinted sunglasses from her jacket's pocket and putting them on. She wanted to avoid having to show herself to him for as long as she could, even if it made her look ridiculous. Maria, knowing that Bridget would enter the room, left her to give her some space and a moment to gather her thoughts.

Taking the knob into her grasp, she licked her lips before knocking upon the door, and she soon received permission to come in from the other side. After inhaling deeply, her hand twisted the knob and pushed the door open, closing it again after stepping inside.

It was amazing how she seemed to step back in time. The room that S.H.I.E.L.D. prepared for him was remarkable in the sense that it was exactly how any room in the 40s was decorated, and the radio that they also provided only added to the scene by playing the old tunes that brought back memories of her past. The thing that completed it was him.

Her eyes scanned over his body and it was like nothing had changed, like not even a second had passed by. He was still him. He had the same blond hair, the same blue eyes, the same plump lips, the same muscular build, the same calming aura that seemed to radiate from him – nothing had changed in more than fifty years, and that somehow put her at ease, relieved her mind a bit. She had secretly been hoping that nothing had changed about him, because if something had, she wasn't sure how she would take it.

It was then that Bridget decided she was glad that she had chosen to put the shades over her eyes. If she hadn't, her eyes, which were now collecting tears, would have been on full display.

Steve sat upon his bed silently, reading a newspaper that was from a few years after his disappearance. Once he could feel the eyes of another upon him, he set the paper to his side, his head pulsating as he did so from the overwhelming information he was gathering, and looked up to see a woman dressed in all black with the exception of her pure white t-shirt. Her brunette hair was straightened to perfection and it cascaded down her shoulders with not a single strand out of place. He couldn't see her eyes as they were covered by a pair of dark tinted Ray Ban Aviator glasses, and she emitted an austere demeanor, making him believe that she meant business by the way she carried herself.

As he stared at her, she did her best to keep herself together, his blue eyes taking in everything about her and making her knees feel like they'd lose all their strength in them if he stared any longer. When his same voice flooded her ears, she thought she just might have a heart attack.

“Hello, ma'am,”