"There may be something," Panther said quietly. "I have no idea if it will work, but we can try." He paused for a moment, glancing worriedly at Steve. "He won't like it," he said to May.

"He won't have a problem with it," May said confidently. Steve decided he wouldn't have a problem with it.

"Before I left that place... there was an experiment. Somewhere, they got part of the Super Soldier Serum recipe."

"Does Fury know about this?"

"Not unless Hannah told him. I don't know what her reasoning was, but she wanted to keep it quiet."

"She's usually right. Go on," May said, nodding once.

"They injected one guy with the prototype serum, then used blood transfusions to spread the serum to others."

May watched him out of the corner of her eye. "It didn't work."

"No. Like I said, they only had part of the recipe. I don't know what would have happened if they could have perfected the serum."

May thought quietly for a second. "I'll call my team." She whipped out her phone.

"Coulson. I need-"

"I told you so," Steve's heightened senses picked up.

"I'm aware."

"So what do you need?"

"Can you come give us a lift from-"

"Look up."

Steve and May both glanced into the sky, where a large aircraft was materializing.

"You followed me."

"You needed help."

"I would've been fine."

"Apparently not if you're calling me."

May muttered something under her breath. "Hurry up. A friend sustained a serious injury and we need Fitzsimmons 10 minutes ago."

"On it."

The aircraft floated towards the ground, a door in the back opening as it touched. Steve saw two people running a stretcher past a very nice red convertible.

"Fitz, stop, we can't roll this through sand, you know that," the woman said.

"Well, um, can you get her over to us, by chance?" the man, Fitz called. May nodded. She and Panther carefully picked Hannah up and sprinted towards the plane.

"Hurry up Rogers!" Panther yelled. "We need you for this to work!" Steve ran. Steve ran faster when May looked at him. The trio reached the plane, and Hannah was placed on the stretcher. Fitz and the girl took off running- May, Panther, and Steve followed.

"I would say that she has a torn right atrium, possibly a bit into the right ventricle or pulmonary artery, it is impossible to see without a cursory radiograph. I would also worry about the stability of the sinoatrial node," Fitz diagnosed.

"In English?" Panther asked, sounding worried.

"Are you mental? I did explain what I meant using the Queen's bloody English! "

"I use normal English. Words like 'bad' 'emergency' and 'not my BLOODY FAULT!" Panther said the last part to Steve.

"Congratulations, Colonel McCarthy, you managed to string three words together into a sentence," May commented dryley.

The group turned into a doorway, stepping into a large lab. They were met with a tall, fit man in a SHIELD uniform.

"They're here. Get us off the radar," he onto his radio.

"I don't think there's anything we can do," the woman said.

"Usually people with this kind of injury succumb almost immediately," Fitz added.

"Oh! You're Steve Rogers! I've heard of you!"

"Not the time, Simmons," Fitz said, busily rearranging surgical tools.

"No. Of course not," she said rolling her sleeves up.

"Actually I think it's the perfect time. She needs a blood transfusion," Panther said.

Fitz and Simmons both looked up.

"Of course she does! Yes that is just the thing. Of course," Fitz muttered as he began to prepare the equipment.

"Here. Stand still," Simmons said to Steve, inserting an IV into his arm. "I think 3 quarts? If we calculate body mass index in proportion to general physical activity and cardiovascular endurance, that shouldn't be too much."

"A stretch maybe."

"But not too much."

"Hurry Simmons, we're losing her. More than before. Ready when you are." Simmons nodded, and Fitz flipped a couple of switches on the machine he had hooked Hannah and Steve up to.

"Vitals?"

"Steady."

"Now?"

"Heart rate increasing."

"Strength?"

"Getting there... almost..."

As if on cue, Hannah jerked her eyes open. "Sh, shit!" Panther said in response to her alarmed expression. "Don't you dare mo- Never mind." he said, watching as Hannah tried to jump up and was pushed back down by Fitz and Simmons.

"Breathe. Calm down. You're OK. We're not back there. They'll help you," Panther said to her. His words seemed to calm her down, although Hannah still looked terrified.

"Where the hell am I?" she asked after a second.

"No idea. We're on the bus. Coulson's driving."

"Well, crap. We're all good as dead!" Hannah said weakly. "What happened?"

"You got shot."

"Well no shit Sherlock!"

"Fitzsimmons said something about your sinus-atal mode or something."

"Sinoatrial node, it's basically the heart's natural pacemaker," Hannah said.

"How you know that beats me."

"I wanted to be a vet once."

"What changed?"

"Everything," Hannah said softly. "Geez, this hurts."

"So sorry," Simmons said, "but we're going to need to put stitches in..."

"Do it then," Hannah said.

"It will hurt..."

"Obviously."

"A lot, I'm afraid..."

"Then stop telling me about it and put the damn stitches in!"

Simmons nodded, swallowing nervously. Steve watched uncomfortably as Fitzsimmons worked together to clean and stitch the wound. Hannah didn't make a single sound, but Steve could tell she was in pain. A lot of pain. He watched as Panther grabbed one of her hands, and as Hannah clung to it like it was the only thing keeping her in the real world. Maybe it was. Steve knew that, despite what May had said, it was his fault that she was lying there. Suddenly, he just couldn't watch any more. He turned around and ran out the door.

After what had seemed like forever, Steve stopped running. He was inside a small room- someone's bunk, he realized. Leaning against the wall, Steve let the tears that had been threatening to break out finally show themselves. He couldn't get that image out of his head; Hannah, who was normally so strong and independent relying on Panther for support. Steve realized that Hannah, even though she knew his past, still trusted him. Bitterly, he wished that he could have too. Panther was right. Things may have turned out differently.

"It wasn't your fault," a voice said. Wheeling around, Steve saw the SHIELD agent who had met them in the lab. He was leaning against the door frame, watching Steve intently.

"I know how you feel right now. I promise, it wasn't your fault."

"If I had just gone in-"

"Then who's to say you wouldn't have gotten hurt too? You can't plan war, Captain."

"I should have gone in."

"Yeah. Yeah, you should have. Doesn't mean you get to sit in here and wallow in self pity. I bet your friend out there blames himself just as much."

"I didn't think about that."

"I know," the agent said. "I also thought I might tell you- you owe your comrade, both of them actually, an apology. The man is furious that you left again, and the woman is mad that you refused to trust Panther. I believe her exact words were, 'Would you get that arschloch back in here? He owes Pan an apology, the idiot'."