Her breathing was ragged, as she made her way down the halls of the very top floor of the New York office. When she had left in the late 80's there was yellow wallpaper, and Bon Jovi playing on the radio. Now, the walls were painted a smooth white, and the halls were silent except for the click of her heels.
A chill was sent down her spine as she was soon able to read the label on the door. But she also gave a little smile as she read the small sign on the door.
Director Nicholas J. Fury
She remembered when he was the small, skinny kid who would flirt with her everyday she walked in. With no doubt, she knew that Nick wasn't that man today. This line of work changed a man, even a man like him.
She waited a moment, and stared at the letters, as if they would change. They wouldn't have called her in, if it wasn't important.
"Rosie, always nice to see you." Coulson greeted with a grin spreading across his face. She hadn't seen him this happy since her mother had told him a few stories about him.
"I could say the same. But Coulson, what's gotten into you? Finally finish you trading card set?" She asked a small laugh in her tone.
"That and much more." He answered before Nick decided it was his turn to speak.
"You must be wondering why we've called you in." He said, making his way around his desk and over to his screen on the wall.
"Considering it's been thirty years since I last stepped in this room. Yes. I am wondering why I am here."
"Rosie, it's your father." Coulson said in a rush, a flustered look of excitement settle on his face as his eyes gleamed with joy.
"What?" She asked, a yearning growing in her chest. "What is it?"
"He's alive, Rosie." Fury spoke, his head turning to her, as he displayed the footage on the screen. Pictures of the ship, of him being thawed out. Clips of his from the war, and a feed. In the bottom left corner, a small constant feed that watched a sleeping Steve Rogers in a simulated room.
Rosie could practically feel her heart stop in her chest, and breathing stop as she looked at the images. She watched as the man-her father, sat up in the bed, eyes peering around. Knowing something was up.
"It's really him, my dad?" Rosie said barely above a whisper.
"The one and the one. Captain America." Coulson said from behind her. Watching the screen with a hint of awe, and a touch of fanboy.
"Now if you'll excuse me, Ms. Rogers. I have some business to attend to." Fury said. "Attending to the likes of your father. He seems to have caused an uproar within our agency." He spoke walking out of the door. Rosie didn't even turn to see him off. Her eyes were glued to the screen, watching her father.
"He's scared." She deducted.
"Wouldn't you be? After thinking you were dead for seventy years." Coulson supplied.
"I lived through them." She gave a sigh, turning to look at him. Trying to keep herself composed for him. "I can't do this, Phil."
"Rosie, go home. Breathe. Let this settle in. You don't need to see him right away..." His eyes watched the screen. "And it looks like you couldn't anyway..."
Her father, had stood. A contorted look settled on his face as he realized the illusion. Rosie watched as he broke through the walls easily and the cameras began to shift to find him. Her heart, practically leaping from her chest as he left the building. Now, she would too.