Sam Winchester slid through the metal detectors with ease, his brother Dean following close behind. Searching the crowds, Sam lead Dean to follow him over to a bench, a display of museum and travel brochures residing next it. Grateful, Dean plopped himself down on the cool marble, watching as Sam pulled a few brochures out of the case, scanning them quickly.

"Why exactly did you drag me here again?" Dean asked with exasperation, "I mean, the exhibit is going to be here forever, the news said so themselves. Sam scoffed.

"Since when did you watch the news?" he joked, "last I checked it was all porn all the time." Dean shook his head.

"Just because I appreciate women like you appreciate the news does not make it porn, Sammy," Dean tried defending himself, but it was no use- Sam was right. He was always watching when he could, especially the one porno movie about the Spanish chick with tacos. Sam shrugged.

"Whatever, man," he said, "besides, the Smithsonian Institute is way better than any porno flick. Trust me." Dean rolled his eyes with a groan.

"That's what you said when Gabriel trapped us in a bunch of wonky T.V. shows, remember?" Dean reminded his little brother, the events flying through his brain. The worst part about it was that Sammy and been turned into the Impala for a good hour or two, and it was something he did not want to happen again.

"Okay, that was one time," Sam said as he joined his brother on the bench, "and I swear to God-" Dean raised a hand, cutting his little brother off right there.

"Whatever, dude," he said, "it happened. It;s done. Now why am i here again?" Sam groaned, and Dean couldn't help but notice how the sunlight caught strands of Sammy's hair, bringing out the brown color. It made Dean a little self-conscious of his own hair, but he didn't really care because he always got compliments on his eyes.

"Do you remember those comic books?" Sam asked, making Dean crack a smile. he knew for a fact that Sam did not read comic books, only those law books or really long novels once in a while.

"Which ones?" he asked.

"The ones about that dude who survived World War Two-"

"You mean Captain America?" Dean interjected. Sam nodded, bending the flimsy brochures in his hand.

"Yeah, anyway, get this," Sam said, and Dean knew he was in for a shocker. Once Sam started something with the words 'get this; he knew his life was about to be turned upside down. Clearing his throat, he watched as two men entered the building, one wearing a blue hooded sweatshirt over a pair of gray sweatpants. His blond hair was cut short, and Dean had to admit- the guy was pretty handsome. Of course, it was more than he could say for the guy's friend. His hair was a tangled brown mess, somewhat greasy and stringy looking. His face was cast down, so he couldn't really get a good look at his eyes. He walked a bit awkwardly too- as if his left side was bogged down by something heavy- probably something he was carrying, a bulky black sweatshirt hanging on his muscular frame.

"Dean," Sam's voice cut off his trance, "what are you doing?"

"Hmm?" Dean replied, turning his attention back to his brother.

"Those guys?" Sam said, "I saw you staring at them." Dean shook his head, earning a laugh from his little brother.

"Whatever, man, " Sam sighed, "but anyway, we should probably head to the exhibit."

"Again, why am I going to this thing?" Dean complained for the third time. Sam simply scoffed, getting up and beginning to walk towards the entrance of the exhibition. Following, Dean grumbled under his breath, annoyed that there were so many people.

As they neared the entrance, Dean noticed a large sign hanging by the door. Nudging Sammy, he pointed, "Look at that."

On a five foot high board was a picture of a man wearing a blue costume, a slew of red and white stripes on the chest. A white 'A' was on the forehead, and the hood pulled down just enough o cover his eyes, with two holes to see out of. Dean scanned the blocky white lettering underneath.

"The Captain America Exhibition," he read aloud, "huh. What do you think they have, Sammich?" Sam rolled his eyes. He hated when Dean gave him little nicknames now and again.

"One, don't call me that," he said, "and two, its probably about the comic books or something." Dean raised an eyebrow at his brother, "This is what you dragged me here for?" Sam gave him a sly grin.

"Well, yeah," Sam explained, "I mean, you read the comics all the time as a kid, so I assumed you might enjoy it. And there's something else, but I figure that can wait until we see 'em." Dean chuckled uncomfortably.

"What's that supposed to mean?" he said, following Sam through the door.

"You'll see," Sam hinted, "but I'll warn you now, it;s really freaky." Dean shrugged.

"After everything we've done? Nothing can be that freaky anymore."

"Whatever, man," Sam said, "lt.'s just get through the exhibit, okay?"

Dean was silent as they began walking through the dimly lit hall, the walls decorated with American flag designs. Black writing on the wall gave a small introduction on Steve Rogers, better known to the public as Captain America, the First Avenger. Sam glanced at his brother, the absolutely mesmerized look on his face as they kept walking, and the room opened up into a cavernous space with plaques and glass display cases.

"Whoa," Dean murmured, blinking in surprise as he and Sam approached the far wall. Sitting on a mannequin was a blue suit- Just like the one on the poster, Dean thought, flashing back to the image. Next to the suit was a shield, battered and worn out. The metal was faded and dented in some areas. Turning to his brother, Dean said, "This isn't happening."

"What do you mean?" Sam asked, confused.

"I mean that all of this must be fake," Dean elaborated, "the costume, the shield-"

"Do you mean to tell me that you refuse to believe that the comics you read as a kid might actually be real?" Sam suggested. Dean nodded, unable to word his explanation.

"Well… yeah!" Dean finally sputtered out.

"Come on," Sam said, "it happened to us- the books, the show-"

"Don't even remind me," Dean shuddered. That had not been a good experience- especially having to deal with Chuck, the lame dude who was writing the books.

"It's a possibility, Dean," Sam said, "besides-" he flipped open the brochure made specifically for he event, "- it says that it really happened, that S.H.I.E.L.D. is real, everyone in the comics you read as a kid is-"

"Yeah, yeah!" Dean cut him off, annoyed, "it's real, whatever!" Sam opened his mouth to say something, instead focusing over Dean's shoulder. Jutting his chin in that direction, he said, "Whoa," Dean watched with confusion as Sam suddenly walked over to it, eyes trailing the wall almost excitedly.

"What?" Dean asked grumpily. Sam jutted his chin at the wall they stood before. On it hung a black plaque, white writing etched into the smooth marbled surface.

"I didn't think they would have this here," said a voice- but it wasn't Sam, Dean realized. It had come from his left, and Sam was standing on his right. So who-? Dean thought, turning to face the voice, jumping hen he saw the guy from before standing next to him.

"Shit, man," Dean hissed, jumping slightly, "didn't see you there." The man turned to face him, breaking into a smile.

"It's alright, really," the man said, running a hand through his blond hair. Nodding, Dean went back to looking at the play with Sam, who was busy reading the words intensely, eyes squinting shut to get a better look if possible.

Dean sighed, trying to turn his attention back to his brother, "So, Sammy, what does this have to do with Captain America?" As soon as eh question left his lips, he swore he could see the man chuckle out of the corner of his eye. Sam was oblivious to the man, enraptured in the plaque.

"Dean, this is his best friend," Sam said simply.

"And?" Dean prompted, keeping an eye on the stranger. Something seemed vaguely familiar to him for some weird reason…. He shook off the feeling, trying to listen to his brother ramble on about how Captan America had met the man.

"You read the comics, Dean," Sam pointed out, "just saying!" Nodding, Dean licked his lips, letting his eyes scan the plaque.

"Come on," said the stranger, making Dean look at him, "we should probably get going to the next part."

"Excuse me?" Dean asked as the man turned around, and Dean finally noticed the man's friend, the one with the brown hair. Now that he was up close, he saw it was messier than he and thought- reaching his shoulders, with a light sheen of grease in it. Sam had noticed as well, nodding in their direction, "Oh, sorry about my brother-"

"It's okay, son, really," the blond one said, making the brothers share confused looks. He didn't look any older then twenty-five and yet he spoke like a grandpa.

"Anyway," the man nodded at the, then stuck out his hand, "I'm Steve." Sam reached over his brother to take the man's hand.

"Uh, Sam Winchester," Sam introduced himself, "and this is my brother Dean." Steve nodded, gesturing to his friend, "Sorry for being rude. This is my friend Bucky." Bucky merely nodded at them, his eyes full of murderous intensity that sent a chill up Dean's spine. Dean let his eyes tap back to the plaque. The white lettering at the top said "Bucky Barnes." The man's biography was written underneath, but the lettering was so small Dean chose to ignore it.

"Anyway," Steve said, breaking the awkward silence, "I guess we should get going to the next part of the exhibit." Nodding, Sam exchanged good-byes. Bucky was still silent, and his eyes widened once he and Steve turned around.

A little boy looking to be no older than ten was staring up at them in shock. He wore a blue t-shirt with a shield printed on the front- Captain America's shield, Dean realized. Dean stared back at the kid.

"What are you looking at, eh?" Dean asked. The boy ignored him, and Dean noticed that the child wasn't looking at him at all, but the man next to him- Steve. Giving Dean a sideways glance, Steve looked back at the kid with a smile, and raised a finger to his lips.

"What the…?" Dean mumbled, watching as Steve then nodded at him, ushering Bucky towards the next part of the exhibit. The kid was still staring at Steve in awe, only moving once Steve and Bucky had disappeared into another room. Sam was still reading the description, nudging Dean's arm, "Look at this." Dean let his eyes fall on the plaque, following Sam's finger. Where he as pointing was a black and white photo- a close-up of Captain America's best friend.

"It says that he was the only one out of the Howling Commandos to give his life for their cause," Sam explained, pulling Dean out of his trance. But Dean ignored him, looking back to where Steve and Bucky had gone. Tugging at Sam's sleeve, he said, "Come on, kiddo."

"Where are we going?" Sam asked as he followed obediently, puling himself away reluctantly from the biography of Bucky Barnes.

"The next part of the exhibit, duh," Dean said, although he really just wanted to get another glimpse at Steve and Bucky if they were still there. Just to be sure, of course.