Thank you again for all the interest in the story :) In this chapter Stella almost gets results, but a guest star intervenes.

File ID: 58117 - June 05, 2012

Name: Steven Grant Rogers/Captain America

Species: Human

Date of birth: July 04, 1918

Place of birth: United States of America

Citizenship: American

Occupation: Soldier

Family status: Single

"Is the shield a metaphor?" I ask looking at the famous shield that is leant against the couch. It looks kind of battered up close, but the star still shines on it.

Steve smirks at me. "As in?"

"As in you need protection from my questions."

He laughs softly. "You're working your way through my first line of defence, is it?"

I smile as well. "You don't need to worry, Steve. You talk to me for an hour and you get back to your training. Or whatever it is you have to get back to."

"A new assignment," he responds. "I might have to go to Russia."

"To Russia?" I ask. "So soon?"

He shrugs. "Well, yes. Do we need to get a permission from you to be able to continue working?"

I raise my eyebrow. "As of now you do not. But that's actually a pretty good idea." He rolls his eyes. "Alright, so you feel confident about a new assignment already. You don't need more time to process what happened and—"

"What happened, Miss Moon?" he cuts in. "Do tell me what happened exactly that is supposed to have us all in lethargy even a month after the battle? I mean I was there, but maybe I didn't notice something."

"Tell me about this task instead. Would you go alone?" I ask changing the subject. Steve does not want to be here, which I already got used to. Nobody does. But he seems rather hostile.

"I don't know. I guess Romanoff is coming too."

"It looks like you have a great relationship with agent Romanoff."

"Do you mean you observed us?" His tone is downright accusatory now.

"A little bit," I shrug uneasily. "And I've read—"

"The reports. Of course you did," he huffs.

I take a deep breath and try to calculate if I will have enough time to duck if Steve decides to throw the shield at me. "Steve, what is it?" I ask. "Did you decide to be the one who makes me quit? Did you make a bet with the others?"

Steve sighs. "I apologise, Miss Moon," he finally answers. "I don't mean to be rude."

I am tempted to inform him that he is well on his way nonetheless, but I keep my mouth shut. Steve really doesn't seem to be in his top form. "Are you in a general bad mood?"

"I am having one of those old days."

I frown. "Old days?"

He rubs the back of his neck. "Some mornings I wake up and simply start my day. But some other mornings when I wake up, I believe I'm back in my first life."

"In the old days."

"Exactly. So it takes half an hour more to even leave the bed. And even if I do get on with my day, I keep thinking of what I lost. The people, the whole world, even the terrible food we got in the camps."

"Even the war?"

He shrugs. "I'm a soldier. War is my job."

I nod. "Fair enough. So how do you deal with the old days?"

He laughs mirthlessly. "As you can see, not quite efficiently."

"You mean you sulk," I reply. He winces slightly but I go on. "It is a perfectly normal reaction to grief and loss."

"Yeah, but you see, I have no time for this. I am an Avenger. I have to stay focused."

"How many old days do you have on average?"

"Around five in a good month."

"And in a bad month?"

"Twenty," he replies. His previous sass is gone now. He looks vulnerable and sad.

"Have you ever tried to find out who's still alive of your old friends?" I ask.

He nods. "A couple are. Most of them in a hospital, patiently waiting for death."

"Do you visit them sometimes?"

He sighs. "I did. But it's hard."

"Why?"

"They sometimes forget who I am. Some of them can't walk or talk and—" He takes a deep breath before going on. "It's hard. And seeing them also reminds me of those who couldn't make it. Who were still young and strong when they fell. And it reminds me that I couldn't… save them."

"You did your best, Steve. There was a war going on and your friends knew the risks."

"Did they?" he asks. "Did they really? We were just young idiots who did what we did for a better world."

"Well, you can judge the results now. Is it a better world?"

"In some aspects, I suppose."

"So would you say they didn't die in vain?"

He bits his lip and doesn't answer for a long while. When he finally does, his tone is heavy. "They all died in vain."

I sit there and weigh my options. What could I say to that? There is this man who lives off war, and who lost so much to it. And this man knows that all of it was in vain. That there is no such thing as dying honourably in war. I am in awe by the amount of wisdom Steve Rogers seems to possess.

Before I could react, I hear knocking on my door. I ignore it. "Do you think it's a good idea to go to Russia if there is a chance you—" The knocking this time sounds more impatient this time. "I mean—"

"I think you should open it," Steve suggests.

I groan in frustration and stand up. When I open the door I see Tony Stark. His arms are crossed and he almost taps with his foot. Tony does not like to be kept waiting. "Tony, I'm working," I say. It's strange to see him right here. "I thought you avoid this room like the plague," I add.

"Stella," Tony nods in greeting and marches into the room without waiting for permission. He glances at Steve and chuckles when he sees the shield. "Really? Next time I'm bringing the suit," he comments.

Steve sighs and shakes his head. "What is it, Stark, I thought you were busy playing in your dungeon."

"Oh I will get back to my toys in a moment," Tony responds.

"Tony, can we talk later?" I ask.

Tony turns to me and smirks. "No. I don't have time for later." He digs into his pocket and pulls out his phone. "Shane Debney." A picture of a young, handsome man appears in the air. He has black, messy hair and gorgeous green eyes. "He's one of the interns in the Stark Tower, likes hiking and reading sci-fis and swims almost every day."

I stare at Tony in disbelief. "Are you serious right now?"

He shrugs innocently. "He is the perfect match for you, Stella."

I can't believe what is happening. We were about to enter to deeper level of understanding and trust with Steve, something that is crucial in the therapy. Now Tony ruins everything.

"Leave. Now," I say simply.

"But he—"

"Tony, please. I'm working right now and Steve has a tight schedule too. Take your intern and leave me alone with your matches. Please."

Tony seems almost hurt. In the very least offended. "Great. So I spend hours—"

"God, get out already, Stark," Steve murmurs. "Can't we all just have one hour when you are not the star of the universe?"

"I'm sorry, says the guy who brings his shield to the therapist?" Tony asks back. "I imagine you wear Captain America pyjamas too, hmm? With your face on your chest and all?"

When Steve stands too, I start to worry. Tony has one hand in his pocket. I wouldn't be surprised if he had the suit on in the moment he pressed something there, to be honest. "Gentlemen, I am not sure this is the right platform for this kind of discussion. Tony, we'll talk later. Steve, please, sit back."

I'm relieved when Tony groans and nods turning to the door. "No wonder you don't have a boyfriend, Stella," he says before leaving the office.

"What a jerk," Steve remarks, but stays on his feet.

"I apologise." I point at the couch. "Please, sit down. I think we're making progress."

He shakes his head. "I really have to go now, Miss Moon. I'm sorry."

And there goes everything I might have obtained today. Amazing. I still smile and let him leave. What else could I do? I make a mental note to get permission from Fury to look into the archives and get more information on Peggy Carter and sergeant Barnes.