Daniel Sousa had arrived home only minutes before they attacked. He'd limped into the lounge, turned the lamp on and sat down heavily. What a day. He was beginning to lose himself in his own thoughts when a knock on the door echoed down the hallway. With a sigh, he rose awkwardly from the couch wondering who the hell wanted him now.

'Alright, I'm coming!' Sousa yelled when the knocking got louder. He reached out a hand and opened the door. Before he could utter another word a fist thundered into his jaw, knocking him backwards. He swung wildly with his crutch, catching his assailant on the knee, but as he looked up another man in black, his face covered with a balaclava, came at him. Punches rained down on his head and boots thudded heavily into his ribcage and stomach. Sousa cried out in pain, fighting for breath in between each hit. They're going to kill me, he thought. He lost track of who was punching him where, swimming in a haze of red. Blood trickled from open wounds on his face and his chest was on fire. His ribs were broken. He curled inwards with a gasp, trying to protect himself as much as he could, but the damage was done. The attackers cackled menacingly as they gave one last kick to his stomach before dashing out of the front door. It would be hours before he moved.

The morning came, bringing with it fresh new waves of pain. Sousa picked himself slowly up off of the floor, dragging his crippled body to the bathroom. He managed to clean up the cuts on his face and ice some of the bruises, but there was nothing he could do for his ribs. Bravely, he picked up his crutch and got ready for work. Those bastards wouldn't scare him away. They would get what was coming to them.

His men stared as their battered and broken chief limped lamely into the office. The patches hid the cuts, but they couldn't hide the purple bruises or the way he clutched his side as he walked. Not one of them said anything. They knew their place. If the chief needed back up, he would call for it. For now, he had a job to do. He picked up the phone and dialled, wincing at every movement. The line crackled as it was answered.

'Hello?'

'Peggy,' Sousa wheezed down the line, 'It's Daniel. I need you in at the office now. I've got a lead. Meet me in the lab when you get here.'

'Daniel, you sound awful. Whatever's the matter?' Peggy's concerned voice came through the phone.

'It's nothing, Peg. Just get down here.' He hung up the phone. Explaining this was going to be interesting.

The lab was a junkyard of technology that might or might not work. Doctor Samberly insisted that most of the inventions were prototypes and were still being tested. Sousa wondered if any of Samberly's inventions ever worked or at least worked properly. He leaned heavily against a bench, casting his eyes over the equipment. Hopefully there would be something here that would assist Peggy and him in the next phase of the case. He looked up as he heard footsteps in the corridor outside. The door opened and Peggy Carter entered, Edwin Jarvis following behind her. Jarvis looked his usual dapper self, dressed in a grey plaid waistcoat and tie, looking unreservedly British and just a tad out of place. He wore a nervous expression, one that was always present whenever Peggy was about to learn something that would inevitably lure her into more danger. Peggy was immaculate, as always, in a dark blue trouser suit with a white blouse, her brown hair shiny, her lips their usual shade of intense red. Everything about the woman was sharp and severe and yet Sousa knew she could be kind and caring. He knew that the image was what was necessary for her in this world of men that put her down at every opportunity. Severe and unemotional was exactly what she had to be if she wanted to do more than just fetch tea for the agents in the SSR. Sousa didn't agree with that assessment, especially after all the things he'd seen Peggy do over the last year, but Jack Thompson still wasn't of the opinion that Peggy was – how had he described it? – cut out for this line of work. Sousa thought that Peggy could beat Jack Thompson in any sort of fight with her hands tied behind her back.

'We came as quickly as we could. What have you found-,' Peggy stopped short when she saw the bruises on Sousa's face. 'Oh Daniel! Are you alright? What happened?'

'I'm fine,' Sousa replied with a huff that made his torso writhe with pain. Peggy hurried over to him, not fooled by his half-hearted assertion.

'Who did this to you?' She asked, running her eyes over his face in an assessment of his injuries.

'Two guys showed up at my house last night. Gave me a beat down. I'd put my money on them being Chadwick's boys.'

'My word!' Jarvis exclaimed. 'Sir, you simply must have those injuries looked at.'

'It's fine Jarvis,' Sousa began, but Peggy cut him off.

'No, Daniel, he's right.' She took his arm, intending to frog march him to the medical room, but he gasped with pain and doubled over. 'Oh, I'm sorry! Your arm…?'

'Ribs,' Sousa gasped.

'Jarvis get his shirt off,' Peggy commanded.

'I beg your pardon, Miss Carter?' Jarvis stammered, not entirely comfortable with the appropriateness of her demand.

'Oh, for heaven's sake Jarvis, I have seen a man without his shirt on before, now help me!'

'Peggy,' Sousa protested, but he was powerless from the pain as Peggy and Jarvis gingerly removed his jacket and unbuttoned his shirt. Peggy made a sympathetic groan when she saw the damage.

'Oh Daniel, why didn't you say something?' The bruises were big, black and blotchy, stretching from his sternum to the waistband of his trousers. They were awful to look at, reminders of the fierce brutality that he had endured the night before. 'Jarvis, we need to bandage his ribs.'

'Yes of course, what do you need?' Jarvis said immediately.

'Two doors down on the right, there's first aid kits in the cabinet against the wall.'

'Cabinet against the wall. Right.' Jarvis hurried out the door to retrieve the supplies, leaving Peggy to stare sadly at Sousa's wounds.

'Why didn't you call me?' She asked, fetching paper towels from a bench to wipe away dried flakes of blood that Sousa had missed on his face.

'I did,' he replied, hissing through his teeth at the pressure on his cheekbone.

'I mean last night! You might have died and I wouldn't have known until I found you lying on your hallway floor, black and blue.' She stood with her hands on her hips glaring angrily at him. He knew she was only angry because she was worried, but she looked fierce all the same. He met her eyes, but looked away quickly.

'I didn't want them going after you too, Peg.'

'I can look after myself,' she said sternly, but her hands had left her hips and she dropped her gaze. He had been trying to protect her, she knew that, but she hadn't had the chance to protect him and now he was hurt. Chadwick and his goons would pay for their assault later. Right now, the best she could do was to patch him up.

The door creaked open and Jarvis stumbled into the room, his face hidden by a mound of first aid boxes. 'I wasn't entirely sure how many bandages would be required so I took the lot,' he said, lowering them precariously down onto a bench.

'I think that will be quite enough Mr Jarvis,' Peggy said with an amused smile that was exclusively reserved for Jarvis' exaggerations. She searched through the supplies and pulled out a cream that would soothe Sousa's broken skin and allow it to heal without cracking and bleeding. Squirting the cream into her hand, she stepped over to Sousa, who was now sitting on the edge of the bench, and pushed his shirt down his shoulders.

'Peggy, I don't think-'

'I'm terribly sorry, would you rather a nurse?' Peggy didn't give him a chance to answer. She smeared the cream gently onto his chest, spreading it out over all of his bruises. He clenched his teeth as she gingerly rubbed it in with her fingertips, starting at his sternum and working left to right, down his chest and his sides to his stomach. Despite the pain, Sousa shivered at her touch. He forced himself to keep his eyes down though he wanted very much to look at her. She tried to be as gentle as possible, but the bruises were bad and the smallest touch sent a jolt of pain thudding through his body. The cream left his exposed skin cold and tingling, goosebumps rising on his arms. Peggy didn't say a word throughout the whole process, working softly and methodically, until his body was covered in the stuff.

'There,' she murmured eventually, taking her hands away from his skin. 'Now for the bandages.' Sousa looked up, unable to avoid it any longer. Her eyes, usually so steely, had a hint of tenderness in them that made him forget that Jarvis was in the room even as the butler fumbled with rolls of bandages, handing them to Peggy who didn't break eye contact with Sousa as she unfurled them. 'Lift your arms up,' she commanded. Sousa had a bizarre recollection of snapping at Jack Thompson only two days ago – Do as Peggy says! – as he raised his arms with an amused smile that he hoped she didn't see.

Peggy wound the bandage expertly around Sousa's torso, pinning it tightly. It hurt to breathe, but at least it would ensure that his ribs healed in the right place.

'Jarvis,' Peggy said loudly, her eyes on her patient, 'would you mind returning the first aid kits to the medical room please?'

'Should we not pack them away properly and replace the supplies Miss Carter? You know how utterly distressing it is when you need a bandage and find that the last inconsiderate person to use one has decided not to think of those who will come after him.'

'I think the nurses can handle it Jarvis, I'm sure they'll be glad to assist you with any replacements you should care to make.'

'Yes, I suppose they would,' Jarvis muttered, clearly not convinced that it was proper to leave medical kits unfurnished. He gathered them up in his arms and marched out the door, closing it behind him with his foot.

Peggy rolled her eyes, eliciting a small laugh from Sousa as he shrugged his shirt back on.

'Thanks Peg,' he said, slowly doing up his buttons. Peggy took his hand.

'Daniel, promise me you won't ever hesitate to call me if you're in trouble? Especially if you're hurt.'

He glanced at their entwined fingers; hers were so delicate and yet he knew how much force they could exert on an unlucky jaw. He tightened his grip and looked up, nodding.

'I promise.'

She leaned forward to kiss him on the cheek and then thought better of it because of the bruises. Before she could pull away, he cupped her cheek with his free hand and directed her kiss to his mouth. She kissed him softly and he let himself forget the pain for a moment, lost in Peggy Carter's touch.

'Miss Carter, you'll be pleased to know that the nurses had plenty of replacements, I…oh!' Jarvis stopped short as he returned to the lab and saw Peggy and Sousa otherwise engaged. They pulled apart quickly, looking like children caught sneaking sweets. 'I'll just…let you two…I'm sure I must have dropped something in the hall…' he sidled awkwardly out of the room, averting his eyes rather dramatically.

'You sure have some strange friends Peggy,' Sousa laughed.

'Yes, well I suppose that's what comes of working in the SSR,' she smiled, leaning closer.