Care

I kept updated with Coulson as often as I could in the following months. I had to do it in secret and on secure channels. No one – not even Steve – could know that I was talking to a supposed dead man. I worried about the situation and what it could mean, for everyone. But I didn't let it affect my job.

I got an unexpected phone call the week before Thanksgiving. I was half asleep and didn't even check who it was before I answered

"I hope you don't have any plans for Thanksgiving, because I have decided your honeymoon period is over and you and Captain Rogers are coming home for Thanksgiving."

"Laura?" I asked. Coulson's sister was the last person I expected when I picked up the phone. Before Coulson had "died" he used to bring me with him to holidays at his sister's, usually bringing along Natasha and Clint, as well. Steve rolled over at the side of me. I knew he would've woken up as soon as my cell rang. The slightest noise woke him; the downside of being a soldier, he told me.

"Who else?" she replied.

"How did you know about Steve?" I asked.

"Nat," she answered, simply. "Look. I know it's been a difficult year, with… Phil, and everything." She took a breath. "But I think it's time we put aside our grieving and you bring your boyfriend home to meet the family. The kids have missed you, Bridge."

I sighed. "I've missed you guys too," I told her. I looked over at Steve. He nodded. "Okay," I told her. "We'll be there."

I called Coulson when I got to the Triskelion later that day.

"I am going to Laura's for Thanksgiving," I told him.

He was silent.

"How am I going to do this, Coulson? It's enough that I have to lie to Steve, to Natasha, to Clint. Now I have to lie to your sister? To Daniel? To Cooper and Lila? I'm sick of this! I hate all the lies and the secrets. I know that this is what I signed up for when I became a S.H.I.E.L.D. agent, but I didn't expect to have to keep this kind of secret."

I sighed.

"I hate being the only one who knows."

"I know," he said. "It's not easy on my side, either."

"Yeah," I murmured. "I get that. It's just… I've never been to Laura's without you… and she wants me to bring Steve!"

Coulson laughed. "That should keep you distracted, at least."

Well, I found out where Clint had been all this time.

He took a break from retiling Laura's bathroom to hug me and greet Steve with a firm clap on the back before excusing himself to get a drink.

"I kept telling him he doesn't need to earn his keep," Laura told me over a coffee while Cooper and Lila commandeered Steve to show him the house. "I gave up after he remodeled the kitchen."

"He wants to feel useful." I understood that.

She nodded. "I just think that… without Phil, he didn't know who he was. I think he's keeping himself busy while he figures it out."

Natasha joined us just before dinner. I wasn't surprised to find out she had known where Clint was all along.

"It wasn't my secret to tell," she explained.

That struck a chord.

Laura grilled Steve all the way through dinner. He kept looking at me, as if expecting me to save him, but I thought it was way too funny to stop. Things got even worse after Daniel found out Steve was Captain America. Coulson's brother-in-law shared his love for all things Captain America and the two often had tried to outdo each other with buying memorabilia.

As Daniel ran off to find his Captain America comics, I laughed so hard it hurt as Steve turned to me with a panicked look and mouthed "Help!"

After dinner, I volunteered myself and Clint to do the dishes so that I could have a minute with him alone.

"How are you doing?" I asked.

He shrugged, up to his forearms in soapy water. "I'm getting there," he replied.

I nodded. "You think you'll be up to coming back to work soon?"

He sighed, wiping the bubbles off of one arm. "I don't think I'm there yet."

"Okay," I replied. "Take as much time as you need, Clint. Just… you know me and Natasha are here for you. And Steve, Tony, Banner, Thor… They've all asked after you. They all care about you. You're a part of the team. The Avengers. The team will be there when you're ready."

I had spent my first few months in the Triskelion learning the layout back to front. I even channeled Clint and spent a few days in the air ducts. It wasn't asked of me, but I did it anyway.

My job, officially, was a Level Six freelance specialist. I didn't have a team and I was supposed to wait until a team had need of me.

Unofficially, I was a Level Nine Specialist and one of the few people that Fury had an ounce of trust in. I think I could count these people on one hand and I was glad to be one of those few.

Only Hill, Fury, and Steve knew the full specs of my job. It was even buried on the system. I still came up as a Level Six and needed a specific set of passwords for the Level Nine clearance to register, if I had need of it.

I was Fury's secret and I knew a lot of secrets. I wouldn't kid myself into thinking that Fury told me everything. Fury's secrets had secrets.

I was with Fury, waiting for Steve to return from a mission, and I was supremely bored. We both were. Not that Fury would ever admit to it, but he was leaning on his chair with his hand supporting his head. Paperwork was ridiculous and Fury made no secret of how much he hated it.

"You just can't stop yourself from lying, can you?" Steve stormed into the room, eyes on Fury.

"I didn't lie," Fury replied, not moving. "Agent Romanov had a different mission to yours."

"Which you didn't feel obliged to share," Steve countered, coming up to the desk and putting his hand on my shoulder lightly.

"I'm not obliged to do anything," Fury said, slowly, patiently.

"Those hostages could have died, Nick," Steve replied, quietly.

Fury turned at this, crossing his arms on his desk and finally looking at Steve. "I sent the greatest soldier in history to make sure that didn't happen."

"Soldiers trust each other. That's what makes it an army," Steve shot back. "Not a bunch of guys running around shooting guns."

"Last time I trusted someone, I lost an eye." Fury stood up and leaned over the desk towards Steve, who was still stood slightly behind me. I wasn't sure I liked being between these two men in a fight.

They both stared each other down for a few moments before Fury spoke again. "Look," he said. "I didn't want you doing anything you weren't comfortable with. Agent Romanov is comfortable with everything-"

"I can't lead a mission," Steve interrupted him. "When the people I'm leading have missions of their own."

"It's called compartmentalization," Fury said, glancing at me. "Nobody spills the secrets because nobody knows them all."

"Except you," Steve pointed out.

Fury straightened up, looking between me and Steve, who still had his hand on my shoulder.

"You're wrong about me," he said to Steve. "I do share." His gaze settled on me. "I'm nice like that."

Fury and I showed Steve Project Insight.

I remembered being there when Tony Stark delivered the plans for the new repulser engines for the helicarriers. He claimed that his personal relationship with the old system gave him permission to rework the new ones however he liked, just in case he had to get up close and personal with it again.

Fury told Steve about how Project Insight - three brand new helicarriers with state of the art weaponry - could track down threats and eliminate them before they developed into problems.

Steve wasn't very impressed. In fact, he got a little mad and ran off.

I knew where he'd be. It's where he always ran to when he needed to think.

I walked through the Smithsonian with purpose, coming to a stop in front of the display of Bucky Barnes and slipped my hand into his.

I didn't say anything, just offered him whatever comfort I could give.

"I don't like it," he said eventually.

"I know," I replied, evenly.

He looked at me. "You don't like it either," he noted.

I looked forward at the display. It felt like Bucky was staring at me; judging me.

"I have all the same issues with it that you do," I told him. "The project comes from the Council. We have to keep them happy. We have to look as if we're doing what they want." I looked up at him. "That's how we found you. Did I ever tell you?" He shook his head. "The Council ordered us to stop searching. Fury said yes to their faces and went on searching anyway." I paused, looking back at the display. "I've been looking into the project, Steve, and something stinks; in a bad way." I sighed. "Fury's gone to talk to Secretary Pierce, to try and postpone it."

Steve nodded. I squeezed his hand. "We'll figure it out, Steve," I promised.

We were quiet for a little while longer and I rested my head against his arm, my head coming up just above his shoulder. He lifted his arm and I snuggled into his side as he wrapped his arm around me.

"I was going to see Peggy," Steve said, softly.

I nodded. He had been to see her a few times since I found out for him where she was. It was always painful, but I think that he needed it.

"Will you come with me?" he asked, hesitantly.

I turned my head to see his face. He meets my gaze, solemnly. He had never asked me that before.

"Of course."

The staff and most of the residents that were around at the nursing home were all familiar with Steve. He remembered all of their names and asked after their families. They all met him with broad smiles and answered his questions, jovially.

I looked over at him with a small smile.

"What?" he asked, noticing me looking.

"Nothing," I replied. "Just… sometimes I wonder how you can be real… and how I got so lucky."

Before we could answer, a nurse came around the corner.

"Captain Rogers?" We both turned to look at her. "She's having a good day. She remembers your last visit."

We thanked her and Steve led me into the room.

The person lying on the bed was a thin, frail, woman, but was easily recognizable from the old photos I had seen as Agent Margaret Carter, co-founder of S.H.I.E.L.D.

"Steve!" she smiled, lifting her head, eyes shining brightly.

"Hey, Peg," Steve greeted. He leaned over and kissed her on the cheek. He then caught my hand and pulled me forwards. "Peg, I'd like you to meet Bridget."

"It's an honor to meet you," I told her, meaning it.

"You too," she smiled. "Steve was telling me all about you when he was here last time. You're an Agent?"

"Yes ma'am," I replied.

She snorted. "We'll have less of the ma'am," she told me. She looked over at Steve. "Steve, would you please get me a glass of water?"

He nodded. "Sure, Peg." He left the room to fetch it.

Peggy looked at me. "Would you please turn on my record?"

There was a small CD player on the table next to where I was standing. I pressed play and soft jazz music came streaming out. I turned back to her. I knew what she was doing and I knew that she knew I did.

"He might still be able to hear," I commented. "He knew when I entered the building when I came home the other day and we live on the third floor."

"I know," she replied, not looking away from me. "But we should not make it easy for him, should we?"

I smiled. "I suppose not."

Peggy was quiet for a moment. Then she took a deep breath. "Is he okay?" she asked.

I sat down on the chair next to the bed and sighed.

"Some days are worse than others," I told her. "He has nightmares. He doesn't like to be cold. He misses people. Sometimes he goes missing for hours and he's just stood in front of the Smithsonian exhibit. I think he's seen all the newsreels at least a hundred times over. It took him some time, but he's adjusting to the world now. He has a list. Did he show you his list?"

Peggy nodded, chuckling. "I got him to add I Love Lucy to the list," she admitted.

"That was you?" I asked. "I got home yesterday and he shouted from the kitchen that I had 'some 'splaining to do.'"

Peggy laughed and it turned into a cough. She soon settled, though, and looked up at me.

"You'll take care of him?" she asked.

I nodded. "Someone has to," I told her.

She smiled. "Because he won't," she finished.

We shared an amused look of women who understood each other and understood the man we both cared about.

"He's hard work," Peggy told me.

I chuckled. "Don't I know it. I've lived with him for almost two years, now. He sings in the shower and gets mad when I forget to make the bed."

She smiled softly. "So when are you going to make an honest man out of him?" she asked, pointedly.

I almost choked on the breath I was inhaling. "What?"

She rolled her eyes. "It's been two years. And it's not like Steve's going to actually get his act together and ask you. We both know the man and he's a bit clueless when it comes to women and relationships."

I looked down. "Well, it's not like I'm any better," I reasoned. "Steve's the only man I ever loved."

Just then, the door opened and Steve came through, carrying a glass of water.

"Well it's about time," Peggy teased. "Did you have to go up to the mountains to fetch it yourself?"

"If you asked me to, Peg, I would," he replied, honestly, coming over to me and resting his hand on my shoulder.

She chuckled and this sent her into another coughing fit. Steve passed her the water that he had put beside her bed and as she went to grasp it, automatically, she looked at him and I could tell, in her eyes, that something had changed.

"Steve!" she exclaimed, eyes bright. "You're alive! You came back."

Steve deflated and my heart dropped. I felt for him, so much. "Yes, Peggy," he replied, sadly.

"It's been so long," she told him. "So long."

Steve didn't want to go straight home after that. Instead, we headed to the Veterans' Association.

"I made a friend," he told me, as he climbed into the front seat of my car. We had agreed to go back to the Smithsonian for his bike on the way back before we left for the retirement home.

"Oh?" I asked, interested. I knew Steve had been lonely since coming with me to DC. He hung out with Natasha when they weren't on missions and there were guys he talked to at the gym, but he didn't really have anyone close.

"He works for the VA," Steve said. "We run the same route in mornings. I just…" He trailed off, staring out of the window as we turned off of the home's driveway and onto the road. "He understands some stuff…"

I was quiet. "Okay," I murmured.

When we got there, the man, Sam Wilson, was running a meeting. I left Steve outside the room, excusing myself to run to the bathroom.

As I stood there, in front of the mirror, I thought about what Peggy had asked.

"You'll take care of him?"

Every fiber of my being called out to me to care for Steve; to help him with his pain; ease his load.

If I could carry his burden myself, I would.

I would do anything for that man.

But I didn't know how to help him. I just felt so helpless sometimes.

Once, I woke up in the middle of the night to find Steve sat in the bottom of the shower, scalding water pouring down on him, skin burning bright red, and he was still shivering, having woken up from a nightmare about the ice. I dragged him back to bed with me and held him all night, making sure he knew he wasn't alone; that he wasn't back there, in the ice.

I know that without the ice, the war, his loss… there is no way that we could have ever met. But I would give him up in a heartbeat if I knew that he wouldn't have had to suffer through all of that. He has suffered so much and I don't know how he survives, most days.

But I swore to myself I will always be there to take care of him.