This is a work of fan fiction. No profit is being made.

Summer was fading; it was still warm but not unbearable. The afternoon was so beautiful Steve decided to walk to headquarters. On the way, he passed a café where people were sitting in the patio, enjoying the weather. Next door was a florist. The window filled with gorgeous plants. Between the leaves, he could see tables of colorful arrangements. Across the street was a park. It wasn't much, just a small plot that looked liked a building had been torn down and never rebuilt. There was a small curving path and a couple of benches. He wished he had his sketchbook. He decided he would stop for lunch in the café on his way back, maybe take his meal across the street and spend some time in the park.

He looked back at the florist shop and grinned. He wondered what Darcy liked. He hadn't seen her since that last training session with Bruce. She had been angry at him and rightfully so. Unfortunately, she had taken off with Clint before he could talk to her again. He had hoped to catch her yesterday but Clint informed him that she would be spending the next few evenings settling into her new apartment. He would get her a plant. Flowers made a good apology but he didn't want to get her something that would die in a week. Happy with his plan of action, he continued on.

Once he arrived, he checked in at the security desk and clipped on a visitor's badge. Agent Hill had requested a meeting, citing a desire to discuss his future with the agency. He was looking forward to finding a purpose. It felt wrong to live off Stark without contributing in some way. The trip to her office was brief and he spent it wondering about his new assignment. He hoped it would not take him away from the tower too often. He had friends and actually looked forward to building a life with them. He knocked on the office door and entered when she called. There was someone else in her office. The agent turned in his chair to look back at Steve. It was Agent Neumann.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to interrupt. I'll wait outside until you're finished," he said. Please don't let this be it, he begged silently.

"You're not interrupting. We were waiting for you," Agent Hill told him. "Please, have a seat."

He sat in the other empty chair and exchanged a stiff but polite greeting with Agent Neumann.

"I asked for this meeting because I was concerned when Agent Neumann told me you are rejecting his requests for meetings. Tell me why."

He frowned at her tone. "I have already told him that I'm not interested in becoming the public face of SHEILD. I don't see a reason to go to meetings to discuss something I'm not going to do."

"You asked for an assignment?"

"I did."

"We have given you one."

"My skills are of more use in the field," he snapped. "I understand you can't use me against another country but I don't believe there isn't something here I can do."

"We analyzed the different options," Agent Neumann interjected. "This is where you will do the most good."

"I'm sorry but you're just going to have to settle for less."

"Captain," Hill said sternly, "SHEILD has spent a considerable amount of resources on you. We pulled you from the ice..."

"I didn't ask you to do that." He could not believe how she said that like it was something he should be grateful for.

"True," she conceded, "but we crafted you a whole new identity. We clothed you, fed you and gave you a home. We waited patiently for you to adjust."

"I fought," he said quietly.

"One battle and a few skirmishes," she pointed out. "It has been almost six months since you woke and you're only now asking for something to do. What we have asked of you is very simple and something you have done before. The money we invested in you could have been used for surveillance and to combat terrorists but we believed in you. I didn't think you were the sort of person that would be happy with being a welfare case."

That stung. He realized she was trying to manipulate him but guilt still twisted in his gut. It battled his anger and he wasn't sure which would win. He thought back on his time and estimated how much they must have spent. It was a pretty high number. He couldn't help but think back to the depression when people got desperate and some went looking for help from the wrong people. One of their neighbors had been one of them. He had been young then but he remembered the screams of the family when the 'benefactors' came to collect. The father's bones didn't heal right and he could barely walk after. The police looked but they never found their teenage daughter. The familiar rage he felt at injustice burned through him and he held it tight in his mind as he squared his shoulders.

"You're right. I do owe you. However, you should have been upfront about your expectations and given me a choice." He stood, pulled out his wallet and phone and thumped them down on the desk between the two wide-eyed agents. "Send me a list of what you have spent on me and I will repay you as soon as I am able. Don't contact me again."

Agent Hill stood. "You have a duty!"

He interrupted, "I have a duty to protect this county and I will do that but I am not your solider."

Back at the tower, he leaned against the wall of the elevator and rubbed his head. His anger had sustained him the entire way back but now despair was starting to set in. What was he going to do? He knows how isolated he has been. His experience of the world consisted of SHEILD, his old apartment, the tower and a few motels and diners on the road. He could barely function inside that tiny sphere; he didn't have any clue how he was going to manage on his own, let alone pay them back. He spent most of the ride alternating between anger and shame. He was so internally focused that he was startled by the bell of the elevator. He stood, ready to go back to his room and hide, but the doors did not open to his floor. They opened to one of the laboratory levels and Tony Stark.

Great.

"Heya, Cap."

"Mr. Stark," He returned the greeting as level as he could.

Tony eyed him curiously as he pressed the button for the penthouse. "You feeling okay? You look like Thor beaned you in the head with his hammer."

"I'm fine."

"Yeah," Tony drawled. "People who say that generally aren't. What's up?"

"Nothing. It's personal." Leave it alone. Leave him alone. He wished everyone would just leave him alone. Why was it so stuffy in here? He could barely breathe.

Tony opened his mouth but, thankfully, closed it without speaking. Finally the elevator reached his floor. He moved to exit but Tony stepped in his way.

"Listen, I know we don't get along, mostly because you're uptight and I'm an ass, but I'm being genuine. You're a level guy and, for something to shake you up like this, it must be pretty bad. Talk to me and I'll help."

"Help?" he asked. He scoffed low and harsh. "I've had enough help. Help out of the ice, help waking up, help dressing, help eating, help living. I never asked for help. I never asked for any of this."

He was startled out of his rant by a loud clang. His chest heaved as he looked at a large dent in the metal wall. He clenched his hands and felt pain shooting up his right arm. He stared at his hand, confused. The knuckles were split, blood dripped slowly down his fingers to the floor. He looked back up at the dent and his refection looked back at him, distorted like a fun house mirror.

The elevator dinged and the doors shut. The floor shifted and they continued rising. He stared at himself in the wall, struggling to comprehend until the doors dinged and opened again. He turned to Tony. The other man's face was blank. "I," he started but stopped when Tony shook his head.

"Come on. I'll get you a drink and a towel for that hand."

"I can't get drunk," he said but followed anyway.

"I bet it still burns, though," Tony replied as he led the way to the bar. Steve sat while Tony went behind the bar and gave him a white towel. He wrapped it around his hand and watched Tony pull out two glasses and a bottle. He was fascinated by the way the light glinted off the dark amber liquid as it poured from the bottle. He took the glass that was slid to him and took a drink. It did burn. It burned all the way down and settled like an ember in the pit of his stomach.

He took a deep breath and the entire story poured out of him. His words snapped from him like sparks, fueled by the warmth in his center. He spoke until his words ran dry and the ember turned to ice. Tony cursed once and lapsed back into silence. Steve stared at the glass in his hand, wondering at its ability pull speech from unwilling mouths.

"Steve," Tony drew his attention. "I need you to do me a favor."

"What?" he asked warily.

"I need you to take a job as my bodyguard."

"I don't want your pity."

"It's not pity! It's important. I sent Pepper back to Malibu. I asked Rhodey to keep an eye on her but he can't be there all the time. Happy won't go back because they don't trust me to be on my own. If you agree to provide adult supervision, he'll go. I need her safe, Steve."

Steve studied the other man's face but saw nothing beyond the intense gaze. He licked his lips and considered the offer. He nodded.

"Good," Tony sighed, his shoulders relaxing. "I'll have HR draw up a contract for you to review. You should get some rest, you'll have a lot of paperwork to go over tomorrow."

Steve set his drink down and rose from his seat. He paused before leaving. "Thanks," he said. When Tony looked about to protest, he quickly clarified. "For the drink."

Tony simply nodded in return. "No problem."