Steve is not happy.

Differences in this chapter: Dalla is Steve's focus too, not just the mission.

* STEVE'S POV*

I blame Nat and Fury equally for not telling us about the side mission. It wasn't right. My girl… my world… my Dalla was injured and in the hospital because of them. How can you call someone a friend and yet, put them in danger?

But if I'm being honest, I blame myself too. I grabbed Nat and not Dalla. I chose to save her over the woman I love most in this world. Not once did I see a look of anger or jealousy or condemnation in her beautiful gray eyes. All I saw was love as she lay on the jet. The only thought playing through my head was, I didn't protect my girl.

She looked so pale on that cot. Her dark hair stood out more than normal. I know she is fragile. I see it all the time. The only thing keeping me from breaking down and shutting down is the fact that the doctors assured me she would live. But that didn't stop the fear from trying to take over. I didn't protect my girl.

I made my way to the Triskelion, SHIELD HQ, to talk to Fury. Natasha could have told Dalla and I the plan at least, then we wouldn't have reacted like we had. We could have gotten out before the grenade was even a problem. In basic training, I jumped on a grenade. Now, I was pulling people from them rather than being their shield. I didn't protect my girl.

I was the skinny kid from Brooklyn. All I had was a drive to serve my country until Dalla walked into my life. What happened to the ninety-pound asthmatic guy that got told he had the "heart of a warrior" by the most beautiful woman in the world? Where did he go? Because he would have at least trapped the damn grenade under the shield. He would have put Dalla first. I didn't protect my girl.

I walked into the lobby. That damn eagle they had for the logo towered over me, almost taunting me. It was shaped like an eagle imitating a medieval shield. Whoever designed it must have thought they were clever there. There were many types of logos under this larger symbol. I sometimes stop by the Wall of Valor, noticing all the different symbols that had appeared over the time of SHIELD's creation, starting with the Scientific Reserve I used to serve in. But today, I didn't stop to read the names or remember old friends as I had in the past. I only had one goal. I could remember them on my way out.

No, I came to call out a man that couldn't seem to grasp the concept of truth and teamwork. A man that had more hidden agendas than a gopher had tunnels. A man, as Stark puts it, whose secrets have secrets. I had to confront Nick Fury.

I went into his office and, before the doors even had a chance to close, asked, "You just can't stop yourself from lying, can you?"

"I didn't lie," he said without turning to look at me. "Agent Romanoff had a different mission than yours."

"Which you didn't feel obliged to share."

"I'm not obliged to do anything."

"Those hostages died, Nick. Dalla was injured and is in a hospital."

He finally turned to face me, his face not giving anything away, looking more like a deceitful pirate than the director of a government agency at that moment. "I sent the greatest soldier in history and his girlfriend so the hostages would be safe. Injuries happen, as unfortunate as they may be."

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

He stood up. "Last time I trusted someone, I lost an eye." He leaned against his desk. "Look, I didn't want you doing anything you weren't comfortable with. Agent Romanoff is comfortable with everything."

"Including putting her teammates in danger?"

"Agent Odinsdottir understood the risks of the job."

I wanted to punch him. My fists flexed, hard. "Dalla and I can't lead a mission when the people we are leading have missions of their own."

"It's called compartmentalization. Nobody spills the secrets, because nobody knows them all."

"Except you."

He pushed off the polished wood with a sigh. "You're wrong about me. I do share. I'm nice like that." He led me to an elevator. "Insight bay."

"Captain Rogers does not have clearance for Project Insight," said a computerized voice as I moved to stand away from Fury.

"Director override. Fury, Nicholas J."

"Confirmed."

The elevator began moving as I waited to hear Fury's latest excuse. That's all I seemed to get out of the man. Excuses to get out of being told off. Even his explanations on why a mission was important or "sharing," as this one seemed to be, was an excuse. Why I ever agreed to work with SHIELD eluded me at the moment. Hell, why Dalla worked with them, I couldn't understand anymore. Maybe it was both our drives to help others, to protect everyone around us. I knew by tonight, she would be back home, in our bed, safe in my arms. But if things with SHIELD continued like this, early retirement didn't sound so bad. Working with only the Avengers when needed would be fine with us. We had talked about it enough times. Neither of us trusted Fury enough these days to keep up pretending to put up with his bullshit. I held my hands in front of me, trying not to look defensive, but how could I not? I didn't protect my girl.

I forced myself out of these thoughts as the elevator began to move to listen to him, for some reason, by saying, "You know, they used to play music."

"Yeah," he replied, leaning against the railing along the glass wall. "My grandfather operated one of these things for forty years. Granddad worked in a nice building. Got good tips. He'd walk home every night, a roll of ones stuffed in his lunch bag. He'd say, 'Hi.' People would say, 'Hi' back. Time went on, the neighborhood got rougher. He'd say, 'Hi'. They'd say, 'Keep on steppin'.' Granddad got to gripping that lunch bag a little tighter."

I couldn't help continuing the conversation. "Did he ever get mugged?"

Fury chuckled. "Every week, some punk would say, 'What's in the bag?'"

"What would he do?"

"He'd show 'em. A bunch of crumpled ones and a loaded .22 Magnum." He pushed off as we went to a basement level and walked over to my side of the elevator. "Yeah, Granddad loved people, but he didn't trust them very much." I looked over my shoulder, shock filling me, and of course, he noticed. "Yeah, I know. They're a little bit bigger than a .22."

I was staring at three new helicarriers, complete with jets and turrets. They were impressive, I would give him that. Just not in a way that made me feel comfortable. A sight like that could either inspire someone to do and be better… or it could make them greedy and power hungry. I knew what Nick had to say next would tell me which side of the sword the agency would fall on.

"This is Project Insight," Fury explained as he showed me around. "Three next-generation helicarriers synced to a network of targeting satellites."

"Launched from the Lemurian Star." It was easy to guess after this last mission.

He continued without acknowledging my comment. "Once we get them into the air, they never need to come down." He pointed to the engines. "Continuous sub-orbital flight, courtesy of our new repulser engines."

"Stark?"

"Eh, he had a few suggestions once he got an up-close look at our old turbines." We stopped on a walkway. "These new long-range precision guns can eliminate a thousand hostiles in a minute." Turned as the platform moved under one of the helicarriers. "The satellites can read a terrorist's DNA before he steps out of his spider hole. We're going to neutralize a lot of threats before they even happen."

That statement summed it up for me, but I had to be sure if Fury fell on the same side as SHIELD seemed to be. "Thought the punishment usually came after the crime."

"We can't afford to wait that long."

"Who's we?"

He began looking over the helicarrier as he explained his reasoning. "After New York, I convinced the World Security Council we needed a quantum surge in threat analysis." He looked at me. "For once, we are way ahead of the curve."

I was more than happy to call him out on this bullshit. Knowing that if Dalla was here, she would have done it before we had ever set foot into Project Insight. "By holding a gun to everyone on Earth and calling it protection."

His head snapped towards me. "You know, I read those SSR files." I looked back at him. "'Greatest Generation'? You guys did some nasty stuff."

"Yeah," I acknowledged, "we compromised. Sometimes in ways that made us sleep not so well. But we did it so people could be free." I pointed to the guns. "This isn't freedom. This is fear."

He stepped towards me. "SHIELD takes the world as it is, not as we'd like it to be. And it's getting damn near past time for you and your girlfriend to get with that program, Cap."

I gripped my belt so he wouldn't walk away with a broken jaw for talking about me and Dalla as if we were incapable of adapting, like we were idiots for believing in something as big or important as freedom. I doubt this is what Dalla, Howard, Phillips, and Peggy had in mind when they started the SSR and SHIELD.

The only answer, loaded with all the determination I had in my body, I gave was, "Don't hold your breath."

I walked away, dropped off my stealth suit, returned to civilian clothes with my shield, stopped for a moment at the Wall of Valor on my way out, and drove my bike to the Smithsonian. Anytime I needed to clear my head in DC, I went there. Looking over my past didn't make the feeling of being out of place go away, but it did help remind me of what Dalla and I stood for.

I put on a baseball cap to hide who I was. Not that it hid me very well. It was to blend in slightly and to tame my hair after riding the bike. For the most part, people ignored me, but every now and then, someone recognizes me. Today, it was a kid with a Captain America t-shirt on. I motioned for him to be quiet, earning me a nod. I hoped his nod would mean I would have a few more minutes to calm myself before seeing Dalla. What it did was for my thoughts after the mission to creep back in. I didn't protect my girl.

After the Smithsonian, I drove to the hospital. I didn't bother with a hat there. Having Captain America visiting a patient would be good for the hospital and get me in to see my girl faster. When I walked into the room, Dalla was awake and gave me a smile that lit up my world. She was safe and dress as if she would just be going for a Sunday stroll. I sat on the bed next to her, kissing her softly.

"What's wrong, Steve?" she asked, cupping my cheek.

I looked around to ensure we were safe from anyone overhearing before telling her what I had learned and what Fury said. The curtains began to smoke when she heard what Fury told me before I left. I rubbed my thumb across her knuckles until she calmed down. Starting a fire would not help her or any of the other patients. I did notice that no alarms went off. I'm sure every hospital in the world knew about Dalla's temper and powers and were ready to disable the smoke detectors in her room if she should arrive.

"How can they even accept that?" she asked when the smoking stopped, though she was still as angry as I was. "I've seen this tactic so many times, and it never works how they think it will. Someone always corrupts it."

"What do you want to do, sweetheart?" I asked.

"Until something happens, we can't do anything. We'd be no better than them. At the same time, I don't want to let Project Insight continue. I'm torn, Stevie."

I moved to lay next to her and held her. She only called me Stevie when she was worried about something. And this was something to be worried about. I ran my fingers through her hair as I sighed in frustration.

"I don't know what to do either," I replied. "I agree, this shouldn't be happening. Until we know what our next move is, we just wait. For now, I want to know if I can take my girl home."

She smiled up at me and said, "That would be lovely, Stevie."

We kissed and drifted off to sleep after the late-night-early-morning mission. A doctor walked in twenty minutes later, causing both of us to jump when she cleared her throat. She discharged Dalla, giving her instructions to clean her stitches and to rest for a day or two. Once we checked out, we visited Peggy in the retirement home.

"You should be proud of yourself, Peggy," I told her, not having the heart to tell her what was happening with SHIELD.

Dalla and I looked at the photos of Peggy's children. I noticed the look in Dalla's eyes. Every time we visit, her eyes sparkle with desire when she looks at the photos. I know she sees the longing in mine too. Neither of us are ready for children yet and with the line of work we have, it's too dangerous for them.

As time goes on, early retirement is looking better and better. Not that I would consider it. Dalla and I talked about it once, and she suggested we move to Asgard and do as Thor does, travel between realms as needed. It was something to keep in mind. And it would give me a chance to live as long as her as well. I just never chose one way or the other, and Dalla never pushed for my answer. But the way she took hold of my hand told me she had the same thoughts I did.

"Mmm," Peggy said, looking at the photos with us and drawing Dalla and me back to the present. "I have lived a life. My only regret is that you two didn't get to live yours together." Dalla laid her head on my shoulder as I looked down. "What is it?"

"For as long as I can remember," I answered after a moment, "I just wanted to do what was right. I guess I'm just not quite sure what that is anymore. And I thought I could throw myself back in and follow orders. Serve." I gave a little shake of my head and a smile before looking back at Peggy. "It's just not the same."

"And you, sweet Dalla?"

"I guess I thought being able to fight for a good cause, for the right reasons, would be enough for me. But now, I'm wondering if those reasons are really in anyone's best interest. I'm always willing to fight for others, no matter the scale, but," she let out a sigh, gave a smile even as a single tear fell, "Steve's right. It's not the same."

Peggy laughed and said, "You both are always so dramatic." We chuckled back at her, knowing she was right. "Look, you both saved the world. We rather mucked it up."

"Oh, no, Pegs," Dalla said, taking her fragile hand gently.

"You didn't," I finished, though I did continue. "Knowing you and Dalla helped found and create SHIELD is half the reason I stay."

"It ties us back to our many friends," said Dalla, causing me to smile as I should have known her reasons would be the same as mine.

"Hey," Peggy replied, pulling my hand to Dalla's and holding us both, "the world has changed, and none of us can go back. All we can do is our best. And sometimes the best we can do is to start over."

She began to cough, reminding us of how elderly Peggy really was. I got up to get her some water as Dalla ran her hand comfortingly over Peggy's arm and kept her gray hair from her face. I returned to my seat, glass ready for Peggy. She hummed, I said her name, and she looked at our worried faces.

"Steve?" she asked.

"Yeah?" I responded in return.

She began gasping, tears forming. "You're alive? And sweet Dalla? You both came back?"

We knew that her Alzheimer's was taking over again. After so many visits, we stopped reminding her that we had just been visiting for some time. It only served to upset her more than she needed. Dalla and I were just happy to have some time with her after everything that had happened to us.

"Yeah," Dalla said with a sad smile, choking up.

"Yeah, we did Peggy," I said, mimicking my girl.

"It's been so long," Peggy cried softly, breaking our hearts. "So long."

"Well, we couldn't leave one of our best friends," I whispered, knowing Dalla was unable to say anything without breaking down. "Not when we promised to take her someplace to dance."

"Oh, I couldn't possibly," she said, shaking her head.

"Maybe next time, huh?"

She just gave us a smile before drifting off to sleep, the conversation she no longer remembered having worn her out. Dalla and I each kissed her forehead before leaving. Out in the hall, Dalla cried into my chest. I let my own silent tears fall for a moment before escorting Dalla out and taking her home.