Steve and Tony sit quietly as they listen to their team describe what happened during their absence.

"Mr. Wilson only said it was a sort of 'not space adventure'." Tony winces, remembering his words. "But then you were gone for days and then weeks and months and we thought the worst had happened."

"I don't know why." Steve says quietly, "last time I didn't lose any time at all, I don't understand why this time was different."

Bruce looks between them, "maybe it's like… time drag? It was two people, not just one… or maybe…" he points to Tony, "you're in that universe. Maybe there's some sort of parallel pull of time space if you're there."

Clint huffs, "now we're just making shit up."

"There's really parallel universes out there?" Natasha asks.

"they're not the same exactly, like not parallel in the sense of the word but they do have a lot of similarities. Or at least… this one does? Perhaps there's others?" Steve listens to Tony ruminate on the possibility of endless universes.

But all he feels is grief. He'd promised to go back.

But now he was afraid to. What if he went back and he came back years later? He's already lost time. Generations. He can't risk that again.

His eyes close and his throat tightens.

But Peggy…

—-

Clint climbs up after her. Probably in response to the god awful noise she's making.

He looks down into the machine and then back up to her, and he's really very brilliant but in that moment he says something very stupid. "But he looks like Steve."

Her breathing is agitated, too fast, and her heart is hurting and she needs to get out of here.

But she's not moving an inch.

"Cap?" Tony calls, his voice in his freezer suit mechanized and wary, "did Clint just say it looks like Steve?"

"It is Steve," she whispers. Her voice passed quietly over the comms. "How." She croaks out, turning to face him, "how?"

Tony's face can't be seen but he shrugs and looks helpless anyways.

"JARVIS, get me out of this suit, my hands and face please."

That is not recommended, Captain. The temperature—

"Damn the temperature!" She snaps, pulling at the gauntlet with her other hand. JARVIS must listen because the mechanism releases and her hands are free. Then her face plate pops up and she feels the cold instantly stab at her skin. She reaches down, both hands gently grasping the jumpsuit he's wearing. It's only until her hands are next to his skin that she sees how pale, almost blue, he is.

It's without conscious thought as she pulls him up, sliding him out of the pilot's space and up into her arms.

He's as slight as she remembers… but… she frowns, there is something different about him.

She sees small marks on his face, and then she notices with horror that it's scars, but they look like they've been covered by new skin.

"Bring him down." Natasha says, breaking into her thoughts.

Deftly she holds him in one arm and climbs back down the machine. When her boots hit against the ground they step closer.

"Geez." Tony whispers, "it is Rogers. What happened to his face?"

Now that the initial shock is wearing off, she can see what he means, like he has weird bumps or scars crisscrossing.

And her chest practically cracks at the thought of how he'd received them.

"Are we waking him up?" Clint asks, jumping down and landing next to her, "does it have to be done a certain way?"

"Probably best to have a temperature controlled wake up." Tony offers, "that way he doesn't go into shock."

"Are we going to discuss how a man who didn't get sucked into a tentacle monster portal is alive and here looking…" Natasha pauses studying his face, "what maybe 30ish?"

For a moment she can only think of the fact that this Steve was frozen below zero and so was the other Steve.

Maybe it is a Steve Rogers thing to be suspended in cold temperatures and come out unaged.

But her gut says that's not it. He's not the same man. Something has happened to him. Her eyes catch on the strange scarring, a bubble of dread and nausea rising at how it may have occurred.

"—Cap!"

She looks up, pulled from her thoughts to find all of them staring at her. She swallows tightly, realizing she's been a bit out of it, "what?"

Tony's voice is soft, "Let's get him warmed up, hmm?"

She nods.

—-

Sam listens as Steve explains what happened. He sighs at the end of the story and leans back, "I was real freaked out. You were just gone…"

Steve winces, "sorry, I never intended for that to happen. I don't even know what happened. Did you…" Steve grimaces, scrubbing at his face, "did you get any leads on Bucky?"

The man looks at him softly, "I had a few reports match his description, but he was already a ghost by the time I arrived at each one, sorry."

"No, no." Steve replies quickly, "don't apologize. I appreciate that you kept at it even when I was gone."

"What are you going to do now?"

Sam's sympathetic eyes make the pang in his chest worsen. "I don't know." He whispers.

—

Removing the jumpsuit, to put him in a hospital gown for ease of access, is an awkward subject.

"I'll help till he's down to the lower layer." She says quietly, "the I'll leave."

Tony huffs, "I don't think he's going to care at this point."

Peggy just glares at him and he holds up his hands in surrender.

Except it's the jumpsuit that hides the most horrors.

As they gently work the thick top part off his arms, more scars covered by thick unmared skin appear. She can't see under his undershirt but she can see that the scars continue beneath it.

Peggy can feel their eyes watching her relentlessly, as if they're worried she might lose it.

And they're right, she wants to tear the tower down by each steel beam. The amount of pain and blood Steve must have shed for these marks makes her enraged. But she doesn't show it.

Then she dismisses herself as they start to pull the garment down off his lower body. He's probably in underwear or shorts but she uses the excuse to leave anyways.

Natasha follows her, whether to honor Steve's dignity or keep her from tearing out of the tower, she's not sure.

"It's okay to freak out." Natasha says softly.

"Thank you for your permission." She snaps back. Then she takes a deep breath, holding it and then breathing it out, "I'm sorry. That's not fair."

Natasha shrugs, "I'm honestly more shocked that—"

"Carter?"

Her sensitive hearing catches her name being called from inside the room.

Natasha turns her head because Peggy does, "what? What is it?"

"Cap, get in here!"

It's the way it's said, horrified, that makes her move faster.

She's inside in seconds and Steve is in undershorts, laying unconscious on the bed.

But that's not what catches her eye.

He's branded.

The Hydra symbol burnt into the sensitive skin on his inner thigh, halfway above the knee.

Peggy's hand claps over her mouth in horror and they're all staring at her like she might explode.

Which is sort of accurate.

She closes her eyes.

Bucky.

Not her James.

Steve's Bucky.

Hydra.

Maybe their timelines were more alike than they realized.

But if Steve was captured by Hydra and tortured… she wants to vomit, he looks about the same age as when he died. Which means—-

How long have they kept him in hibernation? And how could Steve's weak heart even manage?

Then a clarity and realization makes her sick. Did he have whatever messed up version of the serum Steve's Bucky had gotten that they'd manage to figure out?

She looks at his skin, did it only partially work? Is that why he's not healing or taller or more muscular like the other universes' Steve?

And if he was brainwashed like Bucky.

"You're going to want to restrain him." She whispers out.

Three pairs of questioning eyes find hers. "What?" Clint asks. "Why?"

"He's mostly likely been given some bastardized version of the serum. So we have no idea what to expect."

"What?" Anthony asks, "how could you know that?"

Her eyes are closed at first as she speaks, "the other Steve came to visit again last night," she glares then, but her tone must keep the jokes at bay because no one even raises a lewd eyebrow. "And he brought his Anthony with him." Anthony's face shifts into shock but she raises a hand to stop his impending question. "They were not here for long and we didn't want to risk you two meeting. Steve explained how he'd just found out in his universe that his James Barnes had been found by Hydra and—" her voice cracks, "tortured and brainwashed for the last 70 years."

All their eyes trail slowly to Steve, she grasps his wrists, "look here—" she points at the thicker scars and bumps, "he fought against restraints, his ankles have them as well—" she points there too, "the Steve I remember would need very little to restrain him." She gestures to his wrists, "these are from something else entirely."

"But…" Clint starts slowly, "if he got the serum…" he makes an expanding motion with his hands, "why isn't he like other Steve?"

"Why does he have these markings?" Natasha asks.

"I don't know." Peggy admits.

"Only one way to find out." Anthony says with a frown.

—-

It takes three days for JARVIS to regulate the rising temperature slowly enough in the containment room.

They try to convince her to wait until it's livable temperatures, even for her, but she ignores them. Staying by his hospital bed and not moving an inch.

They bring her food and a book. But she barely touches any of it. Too sick to her stomach to even fathom eating.

Her eyes trail to the restraints often. But she does not remove them.

—

She wakes up and hears a heartbeat rise. Her eyes flick to Steve's face where his eyes are already open and staring at her.

The air catches in her throat at his wondering and cautious expression. She blinks down to see his hands in fists, but not pulling at the restraints. She slowly raises her head, telegraphing her movements.

He's watching her. There's no recognition in his eyes.

But still she tries. "Steve?"

He blinks. His eyes flicker to the door and then back to her.

"Steve, it's me, Peggy. Do you remember me?"

"Picture." His voice is dry but firm as he says the one word.

"Picture?" She asks, "what picture?"

"The suit had a picture. Then it was taken. Consequence already received."

It's like an ice pick to her heart. The mechanical detached way he's speaking as if he isn't saying he'd had a picture of her in there and been punished for it.

"Do you remember me?"

"No."

Her throat runs dry, "okay." Then she feels helpless, "are you in pain?"

"The pilot is functional."

Her jaw grits together, who the hell is the pilot? But she already knows the answer. His name has been stripped away. Except unlike Steve's Bucky, who became the asset, Steve was made into the Pilot. She's going to fry whoever did this.

"That's not what I asked. Do you feel discomfort?"

"Negative."

"Are you warm enough?"

"Affirmative."

"Are you hungry?"

There's a hesitation this time, like he's not sure how to answer.

"Cap!" A voice calls from the hallway before bursting into the room, "look—" then Anthony freezes, his eyes landing on Steve's open eyes. "Oh, shit!" He steps forward, "you're awake!" And Steve flinches back from him, making Anthony freeze. "Wha—" Anthony starts, looking at Peggy, "wha'did I do?"

Steve's eyes are confused, and his expression wary, but his voice is sharp with clarity, "the Pilot did not give answers about the machine."

There's silence only punctuated by Steve's aggravated breathing.

"Um," Anthony says, "what?"

Steve's voice now sounds automated, "the pilot did not give instructions on how to fly the machine. Engineer's instructions not relayed."

Anthony's face is lost, and he looks at Peggy, "I don't— I don't know what that's supposed to mean."

Her eyes study Anthony, who truthfully doesn't look identical to Howard. But they probably bear enough resemblance to a brain that's been scrambled and brainwashed. "Who is the engineer?"

Steve's eyes flick to Anthony's face and then back to the bed.

"He thinks you're Howard." She says, guessing, her voice more weary than she means it to be, "he's telling you that he didn't tell them how to fly it."

Anthony's eyes get very sad. "Oh." He clears his throat, "that's good…" his eyes wander over Steve's scarring, "I think."

Then it's quiet. Because no one is sure what to do or say.

But Anthony has thankfully never run out of things to say for too long. "So, um, you're feeling okay?"

Steve's eyebrow furrows slightly, "like previously reported, the pilot is functional."

"The pilot?"

Peggy sighs, and gestures to Steve, "he's the pilot. They've taken his name."

Anthony's face pulls back on disturbed shock, "they what?"

She nods, "Steve told me that Bucky was referred to and referred to himself as the asset, apparently they choose names by function. Steve is the pilot."

Anthony frowns, "well, fuck those guys."

She hears the slightest exhale of air and her head whips to Steve whose expression has gone completely flat. But his heart is pounding. She can see his purse throbbing in his throat.

He'd laughed. Barely just the slightest exhale. But he'd laughed.

She smiles, "yeah." And though she's never been one to speak like the other soldiers, she can't help herself, "fuck them."

—-

Anthony has his doctors run a myriad of tests, all while Steve stays quiet and unmoving. It's painful, to a level she can't explain, to see a man who had such a vigor for life be so stagnant.

She supposes the life was beaten from him.

And she'd desperately like to return the favor.

—

Natasha and Clint must have been alerted because they appear casually as if seeing the man awake is no surprise.

"How's Steve?" Clint asks, his eyes trailed to the man who lays silently in the MRI machine.

"He's physically unharmed, and has full brain function." Anthony offers.

Natasha hears the dot, dot, dot, "but?"

"He's not Steve." Peggy sighs, "or at least he doesn't know who Steve is. He doesn't have his memories or his name. He calls himself the pilot."

"But he kinda recognized me," Anthony says with a wince, "that's better than nothing, right?"

"How'd he recognize you?" Clint asks.

"Thought I was my dad, or the engineer. Something like that."

"And so we're going to…" Clint pauses, his head leaning forward and turning to them in question, "remind him?"

Peggy doesn't answer. She has no idea how to answer.

—

He hears Natasha approach before he sees her.

"You can't."

He doesn't turn to face her. He stays quiet.

"Steve, I know you can hear me. You can't."

"Can't what, Natasha?" He grits out, "I haven't done anything."

"You want to go back to her." Her voice is accusing, "You've barely even tried living here, and you're already tempted to leave."

It's a bitingly sad accusation.

"You think this is easy?" He snaps. "To know there's infinite versions of me who don't get to live the life they hope for?" He finally drags his eyes away from the tesseract that he was staring at, "that I could choose to be there but that it's the wrong choice? How is that fair?"

"I never said it was fair." She says quietly, "but you can't. We need you here."

Before the whole Project insight disaster she would never have spoken this openly, but now with their solidified friendship they'd been more open.

"I told her I'd check in on her."

"But you don't know how long you could be gone." She counters, "what if it's longer? What about Barnes, we haven't found him yet."

He glares at her, "that's enough guilt trips for today, thanks."

There's a ghost of a grin on her lips, "is it working?"

Steve glances back at the tesseract, almost like it is pulling his eyes and heart towards it. But then he just sighs and stands, turning towards Natasha and walking past her, "I don't know yet."

—

Peggy feels infinitely stupid when the shit finally hits the fan.

They'd finished their tests and Steve had been perfectly compliant. Not a toe or a twitch out of place.

He'd complied with every request and every command. Which is why, when asked if he would like to change into real clothes, and he nodded, she didn't stop to think twice.

Anthony was unlocking the special restraints he'd made. Both of Steve's ankles were free and he didn't even fidget. Perfectly still.

And then they released his hands.

And still perfectly still.

"You can change." Anthony suggested, then he paused, "do you know how?"

"Affirmative." He was in clean underwear from earlier, so Peggy didn't leave. Even though she knew she should. But Steve didn't even blink at the presence of two women. He deftly removed the hospital gown, his marred skin on full display. Then he gracefully pulled on the sweat pants. The Shield logo, a modernized version of his own design, settled right under his sharp hip.

But even though he wasn't taller, she could see the way his body was different. Lithe muscles seemed to have replaced his bonier and angular physique. Like instead of expanding his muscles, the serum had compacted all the strength into what he had.

He slips on the shirt and his hands go still, his eyes not leaving the far wall.

She blinks, relaxing now that he looks almost normal again.

And that's her big mistake.

Steve crouches and then his eyes flash and he's gone, blurring past them and barrelling through the closed door of the room.

The splintering cracking boom is like a wave of shock as they all skitter backwards.

"Holy shiiit!" Clint is screaming, gathering his wits faster than her. Then he's gone too, thumping heavily and jumping over the debris, and chasing after Steve.

"Cap." Anthony calls, "we're gonna need you on this one." He's calling a suit from his wrist and is leaving the room, sliding around the corner of the hallway.

Adrenaline slams her brain into place and shen takes off.

—-

He's in the stairs! Jarvis! Lock down the building! Evacuate everyone to the holding rooms!

Flashing red lights and Anthony's voice blares around her. Her and Natasha slam the crash bar and shove into the staircase.

"Anthony!" She calls, "what floor!"

He's on 27–

Her eyes flicker to the wall. A big 44 stares at her. She grabs the railing.

"Peggy!" Natahsa snaps, "what the hell do you think you're doing!?"

She yanks her hand out of the woman's grasp and leaps, twisting and grabbing the railing again and landing her feet on the other side, "I'm going after him."

Releasing her hold she pushes off, jumping down two floors and grasping another railing, slowing her descent as she works her way down. Grabbing and releasing like a monkey descending from a tree.

—-

It takes til floor 12 to catch up to him, and damn he's fast. But she doesn't hesitate, swinging over onto the side and connecting her boots to his side. They crumble against the wall together, and she hears his oomph of impact. But he's scrambling out of her grasp and reaching for the door to the floor. She reaches out to grab him but he slides out of her grasp, entering out into the floor.

She leaps to her feet, following him and chasing him through what looks like an endless floor of cubicles.

"Steve!" She cries out, "stop!"

But he just runs faster.

And then she sees what he's aiming for.

The huge panel of glass.

Terror shoots through her as she puts on more speed, "Steve, you stop right now!"

But he doesn't.

And she can't see what it is but he snatches something as he runs past a desk. He hurls it at the glass so hard she hears the initial crack.

And realization that he's weakening it before his impact, hits her and fills her with dread. 12 stories up, even for a super soldier is a painful recovery.

There's no stopping him. "Anthony!" She shouts, hoping Jarvis will transfer the message, "He's going to leap out the window! 12th floor!"

Over the loudspeakers she only hears a spluttering, "he's WHAT—" Before Steve makes impact, using his shoulder as a battering ram and crashing through the glass.

She watches as he starts to plummet, spreading his arms out and legs to slow his descent like he would with the stomper. She's about to leap after him when a blur of red and gold zooms past her. Snatching Steve midair and hauling him up.

"Hey!" She hears Anthony call, "Hey, stop!"

Her eyes track as Steve begins to fight, tearing at Anthony's suit and making him difficult to hold.

"Toss him back inside!" She orders.

Anthony passes back by the hole in the glass and bodily throws Steve back through it. She snatches him and holds his back to her chest, her arm wrapped tightly across his chest and ribs.

He flails but she drags them both back, away from the opening. His hands claw at her hold, and his legs kick, but she's still significantly taller, giving her leverage.

Natasha appears, looking out of breath and annoyed. She sees the hold that Peggy has on him and she approaches. "Watch out!" Peggy calls, as Steve is able to grab a mug off the nearest desk and hurl it at Natasha.

It explodes in mid-air and they all blink at the arrow that thunks into the wall. Clint smiles and rushes up, having apparently gone to grab his bow. "What did I miss?"

Steve starts to fight harder, yanking at her hands and then pulling his feet off the ground, forcing all his weight onto her arms, which causes her to stumble forward. Then he drops his feet and shoves up with his elbows, hard. Enough that she feels the bruises and then he yanks himself forward, getting himself free.

"Steve—"

But then he goes rigid and his hands curl as his back arches, head tipping back. Peggy watches in shock as Steve's eyes roll up into his head and he slumps to the ground, an arrow tipped with a syringe protruding from his neck.

Her head whips to Clint and he shrugs, "just a super soldier dose of knockout juice." She glares and he winces, "sorry."

She can hear Steve's heart slowing and see the way his chest rises and falls. Her knees hit the ground softly and then she's scooping him up, pulling him to her chest and walking back towards the elevator.

It's strange how often her team doesn't realize how sensitive her hearing actually is.

Because she's maybe only 25 feet in front of them and she can still hear them whispering heatedly as if they were standing beside her.

"What the hell was that!" Natasha whispers harshly.

"He was fighting us! This was the quickest way to take him down!"

"He's the love of her life you imbecile! You don't take him down!"

"He was putting up one hell of a fight." Clint snaps, "I took the opportunity to eliminate more destruction and injuries."

They fall silent for a moment before Natasha whispers again, changing the topic, "he really tore through this building."

"She said bastardized version of the serum, I wonder what that means. He's obviously fast and strong."

Peggy looks down at the relaxed face in her arms, she can feel the hard muscles corded along his body as she holds it. But the marred skin takes most of her focus. If he fought that hard each time he tried to escape… She sighs, no wonder he looks so scarred.

But something like warmth ghosts under that feeling. Her Steve had fought. Fought against his enemies. Never giving up. Hadn't even let them use the stomper, or so he made it sound. She shifts his weight and pulls him up a bit closer, resting her nose briefly on his forehead before looking up and striding faster.

—

Anthony paces and they all sit still waiting.

He'd moved them to his lab with the metal walls up for protection. Basically they were in a jail cell with no windows and a single door that could only be unlocked by one of them. Steve was still unconscious on the floor, restraints back in place.

They'd had to set his shoulder, as he'd dislocated it with the impact of the window and bandaged the cuts on his arm from blasting through the door.

A hand touches her knee, causing her to look up.

Straight into the open eyes of Steve.

He hasn't moved. But his eyes are open and now she recognizes that expression. Recklessness mixed with an unbridled determination.

They all go still, and it's an odd staring contest as he eyes them and they stare back.

"Steve." She says, "we're trying to help you. You're not under Hydra's control anymore."

He stays silent.

She looks at him and he says nothing, and it's like a knife to the gut. All their time spent together, all their memories, all that just taken. Like they tortured him for so long that his knowledge of her bled from him.

Peggy stands and gets closer, and that makes him move. He scrambles backwards, and when he realizes He can't go far, but he kneels, hands stuck together behind his back and ankles attached to the floor. He glares at her, but makes no noise and doesn't shift as if to tear at his restraints.

She reaches out a hand and she sees it, the small filinch as if he expects her to slap him for misbehaving. It makes her chest ache.

The quiet sound sof protest are ignored as she kneels in front of them, their heights still not level but closer. And she rests her palm gently on his cheek, holding it softly and running her thumb along the top of his cheek bone.

She can hear the way his heart starts to pound, but his eyes are confused, almost terrified, and she can't have that. "I'm going to release you." She says to him, "there's no way out of this room if all of us are dead. So don't fight us or you will end up permanently restrained. Do you understand?"

"Uh, Cap?"

"Carter, wait—"

"Peggy, hold on—"

But she ignores them, staring straight into Steve's eyes, "do you understand?"

He looks at her for a long moment before he gives a nod.

Without taking her eyes off him, she reaches around and finds the thumbprint scanner. It reads her thumb and she hears the lock click open.

Peggy almost expects him to fight or grasp at her, but he stays still.

He's stayed still last time too though, so that doesn't meant anything.

"Shall I leave your ankles? Or are you to be trusted?"

And something about the way his brow furrows in annoyance and his shoulders straighten in disbelief at not being trusted pulls a smile onto her lips. He's in there somewhere.

This time she does move, leaning forward and unlocking his ankles before walking around to face him again. "You're free. What will you do now?"

He shifts, moving backwards till his back is towards the wall, and still he doesn't speak.

They ask a few questions, but he stays silent.

Sir, Jarvis interrupts, Miss Potts is here to get those contracts from you.

"Oh crap." Anthony says, "okay, I'll be right back."

As he stands, her senses prickle at something, and as she turns her head, she catches the way Steve's eyes flick to Anthony's movements. And she sighs.

The door appears and Anthony exits it, but before it can close Steve is up, barreling towards it like he had last time, but this time she's prepared. She jumps forward, her hands snagging his shirt and yanking him back. He slams against her and she utilizes her previous hold, both arms wrapped and his chest and when he tries to destabilize her again, she yanks them both backwards, slamming her own back against the ground with a painful thud and holding him as he kicks. Her legs roll, swinging up and over his and trapping them both with her longer and larger legs.

They both hear the door click shut.

She feels desperation emanate from Steve, and she knows how reckless he can get when he's desperate, even back in the 40's.

Both of their heads turn towards the click. Clint's standing, his bow in his hands, line drawn back and ready to fire the same dart as before. Steve sees it and his pulse starts to pound.

"No!" She shouts, "don't!"

Clint tilts his head in questions and she has to pause, throwing her entire strength into fighting his desperate struggle for freedom.

Natasha is standing, eyes wide, and mouth agape as she clutches him in her arms. "Steve!" She snaps, "stop fighting!"

And finally he speaks, "don't—" he huffs, "know who Steve is—" His voice is deep and rough sounding, he's angry and scared. She wants to cry.

"It's you." She growls out, "it's bloody you!"

"I'm the pilot." He snaps back, desperate and angry, as if giving another answer would get him punished.

Which is probably the truth.

"No." She hisses, "you're not!" One of his legs almost gets free and she has to think quickly, rolling them both over until her weight is pressing him against the ground.

"Cap, I can—"

"Barton!" She snaps, her hands being crunched painfully against the concrete, "You can shut the hell up!" She hears him huff in amusement and she refocuses on the man who is wriggling beneath her.

Then once his leg is properly resecured she rolls back over, yanking him back against her chest. "Steve, stop!" But he doesn't, tearing at her hands and trying to gain leverage with his legs.

And she only has one last desperate idea before she will have to let Clint tranq him.

In a risky motion, she pulls one of her hands away and before he can utilize his new freedom, she takes her knuckles and raps twice on his chest, right over his heart.

It's like a switch.

Steve goes absolutely still. Freezing in place, his hands still gripping at her forearms, but now the grip tightens, his fingers going rigid.

And her chest breaks open, tears finally spilling up and out of her eyes as his head is pressed against her chest, and with a watery voice she taps twice again, lighter this time, not as frantic, and she says the words, "love you."

She can hear his heart beat pounding in his chest, breathing uneven and ragged and he's fighting his own muscles as he holds himself so still he could be stone.

"Steve." She whispers out, and the fact that there's an audience to something so personal makes her furious, but she can't care about that now. He is her priority, "Steve." Then she taps again, slow, and like the video before their last mission together, she punctuates each knock with the word.

Knock,

"Love—"

Knock,

"—you."

She hears his breath hitch and she can hear the way Clint and Natasha's heartbeats are too fast as well.

But her attention stays on Steve, some war happening in his mind.

"Picture." His voice rasps out, "picture."

She doesn't know what that means, "what?"

Then he's curling forward, chin pressed against his chest and arms crossing over each other to grab his own shoulders, "they took my picture."

She releases him fully, her legs untangling from his and her arms dragging away from his body. He still rests on top of her, but he's not being held. She feels the way his energy drains, his muscles going lax and his head tipping back, landing on her.

They lay there for a minute before he slowly rolls off her, hitting the ground, his face against the cold concrete. She sits up, staring at him as if he might disappear.

"What picture?" She asks softly.

His eyes find hers and there's not full recognition, but there is something. "The machine had a picture of you." He blinks, "and they took it."

"Oh." She says, her voice still a bit watery from crying.

His eyes catch on her tears and he frowns, "did I hurt you?" His voice sounds apologetic and sad.

She chokes out a watery laugh, "no, Steve. You didn't hurt me. Are you hurt?"

He doesn't respond to her question, and then he's pushing himself up, and slowly backing himself up until his back is against the wall. "I'm not supposed to remember things." His expression shows worry, "they don't like the pilot to remember things." Her hand reaches out and he flinches, "there's nothing to remember."

Peggy knows a lie when she hears one.

—-