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CHAPTER TWO

CONTRACTS AND PROMISES

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MARGOT LAUNCHED HERSELF through the newly made hole in the wall, kicking those godforsaken pumps off her feet before chasing after Captain America.

If it were any other job, that sentence would have sounded insane, but for her it was just another day at SHIELD. She swung her bag around her shoulders, her work clothes zipped tight and jiggling with each step of her feet.

Margot sprinted barefoot through headquarters, using her walkie to call out the code thirteen as she kept her eyes squarely on the man out of time. He was faster and taller than she was, but he was still getting his bearings, and she knew he wasn't quite used to his new body yet.

The way he went crashing through agents and analysts proved that well enough.

"Seal off the doors!" She yelled through the walkie, keeping her sight pinned on the head of golden hair now descending the stairs.

Margot swore under her breath as she caught sight of the morning rush crowding the foyer. She didn't have time to push her way through.

Clipping the walkie to her skirt, she stepped on the metal railing and hurled herself forward, somersaulting to safety right as Captain America disappeared through the glass doors. By the time she managed to race out, he was gone and a black SUV drove up to the curb.

"Get in." Fury ordered.

Margot piled into the back, the passenger seat already taken up by Hill.

She shimmied out of her skirt and back into the comfort of her jeans, noticing Fury's eye remaining firmly on the road.

"I told your men to stay put," She snarled, tossing the tie aside and unbuttoning her shirt.

The rearview mirror reflected Fury's disappointment with the situation. "Sitwell wanted the asset contained."

"He was contained," Margot yelled through gritted teeth, "I was handling the situation."

"Not from where we were standing." Hill shook her head, "He looked about ready to punch you into oblivion."

Margot scoffed as she tugged on her boots, running her fingers through her hair, "Please, I can handle Captain America." She thought she caught sight of Hill smirking out of the corner of her eye. She schooled her face into a neutral expression as a thought crossed her mind, "This mean I'm off babysitting duty?"

The SUV turned sharply down an alley and she steadied herself before she ended up smushed against the glass.

"Not a chance." Fury met her gaze through the mirror, slamming to a stop directly in the middle of Times Square.

Margot slid her hair out of her blazer and stepped out of the SUV, surveying the scene before her. Hill sent her a sympathetic look. Margot shrugged.

When she shut the door, Captain Rogers was looking directly at her.

"At ease, soldier!" Fury called as he stepped out of the car. Margot crossed her arms as she watched Captain Rogers' eyes grow wide.

His chest heaved with heavy breaths, although she had to admit he didn't look too winded from the trip. He scanned Fury with a wary eye, the reality of where he was finally sinking in, "Who the hell are you?" And he was on guard, just as the analysts predicted.

She definitely needed to listen to them more.

"Colonel Nick Fury," He flashed his badge, his title drawing another wide-gaze from Captain Rogers. Not surprising given where he grew up, but she was a little disappointed to see it. "Director of SHIELD. You would have known us as the Strategic Science Reserve."

At the sound of the name, Captain Rogers' immediately relaxed.

He was searching for familiarity. She knew the feeling.

His eyes scanned her once more and Margot resisted the urge to fidget.

Instead, she leaned on her right foot and stared directly at the man, her face still in neutral as she remained with her arms crossed.

"Where am I?"

"Safe, Captain Rogers." Margot hoped he believed her, "You're safe."

The blonde man eyed her attire before turning his gaze to her face, "Is that what this is?"

She tilted her head as if inviting a challenge. She could see the fear and mistrust lacing his bright blue irises, frantically searching for any familiarity once again.

"Look," Fury stepped forward, drawing his attention back to the Director, "We're sorry about that little show back there, we didn't know what your mental state would be." The Director shot a rueful look at the Captain as his eyes continued to swing back and forth between Fury and Margot, "We wanted to break it to you slowly."

His shoulders tensed once more and Captain Rogers eyed the Director, trying to piece together the situation. "Break what?"

Fury and Margot exchanged looks. You wanna take this one? Fury's face seemed to say.

Margot screwed her lips to the side as she stepped forward, forcing warmth into her gaze to soften the blow, "You've been asleep, Captain." His brows furrowed at her words, eyes flickering over her once more like he was trying to weigh the truth of her words. "For almost 70 years."

She watched the color drain from his face, shoulders slumped as he turned to face one of the many streets of New York. Margot couldn't see his face, but she knew he was probably trying to conjure up an image of the life he'd once known and compare it to the life he knew now.

Fury stepped forward, an uncharacteristically gentle tone to his voice, "You gonna be okay, Cap?"

"Yeah, yeah, it's just..." Captain Rogers shook off the concern, but his feelings were written all over his body, fists clenched and shoulders tense with sadness and longing as he stared out at the brand new world he'd been exposed to. He let out a small sigh, "I had a date."

Margot swallowed and stepped back toward the SUV.

Hill arched a brow as she stood beside her, but Margot was grateful the woman didn't say anything. She had more important things to worry about, like getting his transport ready.

Margot glanced at her phone, the empty lock screen staring up at her.

She didn't know what she was looking for, but the pang of disappointment hit her anyway,

Margot shook her head and climbed into the SUV, Fury making his way back to the driver's seat.

Her stomach flipped as she realized the Captain was climbing back with her, an awkward silence hanging over the vehicle as it began its trek back to Headquarters.

Margot's brow arched as she watched Captain Rogers completely disregard the seatbelt, but said nothing as she buckled herself in.

He would figure it out eventually.

What she did not appreciate, however, was the way he continued to stare at her.

It made her feel like she was being judged. Like there was some sort of test that she'd failed.

She hated tests.

Thankfully, as soon as they pulled up to HQ, she was dispatched with Fury and Hill for debriefing while Rogers was sent to the lab for testing.

"Now what happens?" She asked, the door to Fury's office closing behind her as Hill commenced the next part of the project.

Fury leaned back in his chair, tossing the file folder across his desk, "Now we get him ready for Phase 2. That means acclimation and adaptation, starting with these."

She opened the file to reveal the plethora of forms she was used to. The big difference, however, was the letterhead reading Avengers Initiative instead of SHIELD.

She parsed through the contract with a skeptical brow, realizing that he'd actually taken her advice when it came to contracting the so-called 'Avengers'.

That's if Fury could actually get the initiative off the ground.

His last attempt ended with a narcissist disavowing the program entirely and taking on a job as a 'consultant'.

"I thought the council shut us down," Margot spoke carefully. Fury simply looked at her. She tilted her head, "Unless you're doing it without their authority?"

"This is on a need to know basis," Fury continued, standing up from his position, "And right now, the council does not need to know."

Margot bit down on her lip as she sorted through the files. The door creaked open and she turned to see Hill peeking her head inside.

"Director, the quinjet is ready for Rogers."

Fury perked up, "Excellent, tell Cole to send him up when she's ready."

Hill nodded and disappeared once again. The hairs on the back of Margot's neck stood up as Fury directed his attention back to her. "Coulson has been preparing the Retreat for the Captain's arrival," He explained, and Margot resisted the urge to smirk. Fury sent her an admonishing look, "He'll spend a week there getting caught up on the last 70 years and then you'll be responsible for him after that."

Margot bit back a sigh, "Sir, with all due respect, why do you need me for this really? I understand the show, to try and see what he remembered, how fast his brain worked, but..." Anger curdled in her chest and she forced herself to remain calm, her fists flexing at her side.

Fury refused to look away, "Acclimation and adaptation, Thompson" He repeated, "Captain Rogers will need all the help he can get adjusting to this new world."

"So pick one of the analysts," Margot spat out, failing to keep her voice from rising. "Or a therapist. This is not what I signed up for."

Fury arched his brow, his jaw tightening at her words, "If I recall, you didn't sign up for any of this."

Her mouth went dry.

"Or do I have to remind you of the terms of our agreement, Agent ?"

Her heart dropped into her stomach and she knew the conversation was over. A lump formed in the back of her throat and she stormed out of the office, slamming the door behind her.

★★★★

HE'D BEEN ASSIGNED TWO AGENTS by his side at all times after the spectacle he'd pulled that morning. Steve had floated in and out of his thoughts all day, barely even registering the poking and prodding he'd been subjected to down in medical.

It was the only thing he was familiar with.

He was still getting used to the fact that he wasn't fainting when the doctors drew blood anymore.

The lighting was too bright, with a weird name that Steve wasn't quite sure how to spell or pronounce. The agent who'd told him said it too fast. The doctor who'd done the initial tests was nice enough, though, with dark curly hair and a bright smile. He'd only been able to glance at her nametag before he was taken up to the top floor of the building, eyeing the eagle insignias with a familiar set of letters surrounding the seal.

The Strategic Homeland Intervention, Enforcement, and Logistics Division. Steve smirked when he'd realized what it spelled. His heart tugged as a pair of brown eyes and curled hair entered his vision, and for a moment he seized.

He was late.

What are you waiting for?

The right partner.

She was gone and he'd missed his dance.

You told me you thought I was meant for more than this. Did you mean that?

Every word.

He gulped as the elevator doors opened, revealing a long hallway with an obscured office near the end of it. His mind flipped through the people he'd left behind.

Dugan, Jones, Buc–

He tried to shake the thoughts away but they persisted.

What if she wasn't here?

What if Steve was the only one left?

The sound of a door slamming shook him out of his thoughts and the woman who'd greeted him that morning walked out with a large grey bag over her shoulder. Steve was never the best at reading people, but her glower was impossible to miss.

She avoided his gaze and Steve creased his eyebrows. The door opened again a moment later and the black man--Director Fury, Steve recalled--was by her side.

"Captain Rogers," He spoke with a certain reverence. Steve stood at attention, the gesture familiar even if his surroundings weren't. Fury's mouth twitched upward, like he'd done something funny. "We understand this has been a difficult transition, so to make it easier, Agent Thompson will be escorting you to a secluded location where you can rest and recuperate until you are ready to rejoin us."

Thompson...

Steve lifted his brow at the man in charge before shifting his gaze to the woman at his side. She was dressed in the same modern fashion he'd seen her in earlier, and she gnawed on her lip, refusing to look at him again.

Did he know her?

Why was he placed with her?

Did she know something he didn't?

"You want me to go with someone I don't know to a secluded place where no one can find me?" He asked, drawing a wry smirk and a raised brow as Agent Thompson shot an amused look toward Director Fury, as if to say 'I told you so."

A spark of laughter slid up Steve's throat and nearly escaped him at the gesture.

Fury sighed and met Agent Thompson's bright gaze, turning back to Steve with a raised chin and crossed arms. "Peggy Carter is still alive."

Steve's heart dropped into his stomach.

Agent Thompson froze, her smile disappearing.

"Where is she?" Steve's heart pounded against his chest, "Is she okay?"

Fury continued to stare at the unfrozen man before him, something gleaming behind his singular eye, "I'll give you your answers, after you come back from the Retreat."

Anger curled up in Steve's stomach at the ultimatum.

It wasn't fair.

Dangling the last remaining comfort of Steve's life in front of him like a carrot to a burro. He was a soldier. He was a man out of time. He wasn't a circus monkey anymore.

He'd sacrificed everything for Peggy. For the Commandos. For--

He swallowed. It was still too fresh.

It hurt too much.

A wave of guilt washed over him. Rebecca was older. If 70 years truly had passed, then she probably wasn't around anymore. She'd had to go through that alone. Just like he had.

"Captain Rogers?" A voice belonging to Agent Thompson once again pulled him out of his thoughts. Fury was gone, and so were the two agents who had accompanied him since his sprint through the city.

The Agent was standing by the elevator, an expectant look on her face.

It looked like his decision had been made for him then.

Steve stayed silent as the doors shut and immediately his throat jumped into his stomach as the silver box descended. He remembered using them at the SSR, but still Steve felt as if he was free falling, grasping tight to the railing and shutting his eyes as he waited for the elevator to drop the rest of the way, ending with him and Agent Thompson in pancake shapes on the floor.

He'd never liked elevators.

"Oh, shit!" She exclaimed, pressing another button as the elevator came to a grinding halt, a much softer expression on her face as she reached out to him, grasping his arms. Something about the curse made Steve chuckle, and he thought he caught a hint of an accent. "You've never been in an elevator have you?," Agent Thompson chuckled lightly as Steve released his grip on the bar.

"No, I have," He replied, staring around at the enclosed space, recalling how little he used them after he turned eighteen, trying to build up his leg muscles so he could enlist. The serum made that obsolete as well. "It's just...it's been a while."

Thompson nodded again, a hint of a smile on her lips, relief flooding her face. "Okay, that's good at least. I uh, my history isn't the best, I'm sorry." She apologized, hitting the button again.

Steve waved away her apology and turned his attention to his companion's face. She was staring straight ahead again, her lips turned a bit more upward than they were before. He thought he caught a hint of red on her cheeks.

Steve had to wonder why she was assigned to him if she truly was as bad as history as she claimed. She tucked a stray piece of dirty blonde hair behind her ear and the ding of the elevator signaled their floor.

Agent Thompson turned to check in on him, her gaze softer than what it was earlier but her face was still unreadable, "I just have to pick up some work and then we'll be on our way."

Steve nodded and gestured for her to lead the way, passing agents in suits and uniforms as they moved through the halls. While she was shorter than him, her pace gave little room to check out the sights and examine the building. She was in a hurry, and apparently she wasn't the only one. Catching up to her would have been harder before the serum, and Steve was unused to meeting her every step.

Thompson pushed through a heavy wooden door labeled LEGAL, revealing a dimly lit space with one window along the side of the building. It looked miserably out into the grass and dirt just a few spaces above them. Most of the agents here were dressed in suits and ties, with file folders and expressions just like Agent Thompson's passing him by without so much as a glance.

Steve stood in the center of the chaos, agents in their cubicles answering phones and typing at inhuman speeds while others were running around with a stack of manila folders in their hands.

"Get out of my chair!" He heard Thompson yell and Steve moved toward the voice, his fight response activating at the sound of her yell. His feet picked up speed as he moved toward the front corner of the room, amused by the scene unfolding before him.

Agent Thompson's arms were crossed as she stared down an olive skinned man with his feet propped up on a desk, the tiny office leaving little room for a confrontation. "Javi, I mean it."

The man smirked and took a sip of his drink, "Make me." He had dark hair that curled around the nape of his neck and a bit of small stubble on his chin, his relaxed demeanor was accompanied by a blue sweater and jeans. Steve continued to wait by the door, unsure if he should enter or not. He decided to take the opportunity to check out his surroundings.

The desk was pretty standard for an office, one edge pushed against the wall, leaving room for Thompson to walk around and sit in the chair the other agent was now leaning back in. It was sparse too. The only bits of personalization included a collection of coffee mugs accumulating near her computer, a tiny picture frame of what looked like her and her father, and a calendar on the wall that was still stuck on the month of January. Several sticky notes also surrounded her keyboard, with dates and reminders written on them in thick black marker.

A few of the ones he could make out included stuff like; pick up baskets, check 1991 archives, and eat lunch at 2pm.

"I swear to god, if you messed with my files..."

"Jesus," The agent rolled his eyes as he dropped his feet to the ground, Thompson leaning over him to check her computer. "I didn't touch your files. I was just sprucing it up, you know how I get."

Agent Thompson angrily pressed a button and the computer went dark, the other agent making a face at the gesture. "Just because you're bored, it doesn't mean you can mess with my stuff."

The agent rolled his eyes again, "The stuff down here is like thirty years old, it could do with some fixing..." The man trailed off when he caught sight of Steve in the doorway, and Thompson followed his gaze and her face turned serious.

"Captain Rogers," She straightened her posture and adjusted her blazer, clearing her throat as she turned to face the other agent she was previously yelling at, "Please, allow me to introduce you to--"

"Javier, I mean, Reyes. Agent Reyes." The agent stood up and offered his hand, awe entering his gaze. At once, Steve felt uncomfortable, his gut twisting at the look. He'd seen it plenty of times when he'd come back after the 107th, everyone shaking his hand and staring at him with the same glazed look Javier had right now.

Agent Thompson slapped the agent's shoulder with an annoyed look, "Get back to work!" She chastised, and Javier grabbed what he could, quickly leaving the room but stopping at the door where Steve lingered. "It's an honor sir." He took his hand and shook it tightly, refusing to let up until Thompson intervened again.

"Jesus Christ–Javi!"

The agent broke his trance and turned back the way he was going, "Right, work."

Guilt settled into his stomach at the words.

An honor.

What honor did Steve have left?

"Sorry about that," Agent Thompson apologized, rolling her eyes as she gathered up some papers and a portable computer and shoved them in her bag, "He tends to get excited when we have guests. Should have seen him when Mr. Banner showed up."

"Are people always..." Steve pointed toward the man who'd just left, wondering if he should be preparing himself for more encounters.

Agent Thompson shrugged with a wry smirk, "Upstairs, they are. Down here, you guys are more trouble than you're worth."

The playful tone of her voice eased him slightly as she shouldered her bag. He let out a small chuckle and followed her back to the elevator.

★★★★

MARGOT HATED THE SILENCE that followed as she moved to the top of the building. Usually she didn't mind it, but this was agonizing. He was a man out of his own time and she was a girl who knew nothing about the time he'd come from.

She wasn't a historian. It'd been her least favorite subject in school, especially American history.

But now here she was, trying to rehabilitate a living relic of those times. So she could've done with at least a question or two.

Steve--Captain Rogers's eyes were fixed on the world around him, wide and fearful, trying to decipher it all. Searching for something familiar.

"It was Agent Carter's idea," She finally spoke up, ending the silence and causing Captain Rogers to snap his head toward her.

"What?"

He was breathless, a sort of reverence found in his tone as she spoke Peggy's name. Margot smirked.

"The organization, naming it SHIELD..." She gestured to the area around her, "She turned the SSR into something that worked to understand people like you, instead of target them."

Captain Rogers let out a scoff at her words, crossing his arms over his chest, clear blue eyes staring directly into hers. "People like me?"

The door to the rooftop floor opened and Margot gestured for him to follow, speaking as she walked, "When you disappeared hundreds of corporations tried to replicate what Erksine and Stark did. But no one came close. Agent Carter made sure of it."

She resisted the urge to smile at the shock on Captain Rogers' face. Everyone knew about the legendary love affair between the Captain and the Agent, but it was different for Margot. She'd heard all about it first-hand, with stories about her Aunt Peggy's epic love. Not her real Aunt of course, but it was the closest thing she had to one these days.

Margot strode forward as she eyed one of the empty conference rooms, "Instead, she dedicated her life to finding people who'd been affected and understanding them. You inspired her to create this Captain."

The man shifted uncomfortably on his feet, his arms still crossed as he shook his head, "I was just doing my job. Serving my country."

Margot gave him a half-smile, "So are we." She gestured toward the conference room, which held a large window pane with a view of the city. From here, she could see the finishing touches being put on Stark tower. She shut the glass door behind her, the card reader locking and turning red as she flashed her ID in front of it.

Captain Rogers remained standing.

He seemed so out of place, even in jeans and the plaid shirt SHIELD had provided. He was taller than she expected, although he didn't tower over her like the rest of the SHIELD agents he'd met so far. His blonde hair was still in the swoop he'd woken up with, and Margot briefly wondered if he'd wished to keep it that way.

"Please have a seat, we're just going to discuss some things before we get underway."

He didn't sit down.

"I wanna see Peggy." He confessed, jaw tightening as he spoke her name. Margot's stomach twisted. She couldn't blame him. She'd want something familiar too. But it wasn't possible yet. He was still adjusting.

He needed to get used to the world he lived in now before he could go back to the world he'd left.

Besides, Fury would have her head and right now, she preferred it on her shoulders.

So she continued with her job.

She pulled his file from her bag, going over each of the forms in tandem, "Before we can continue to the Retreat, Director Fury needs your signature on several forms, as well as a psych assessment."

Captain Rogers didn't budge and Margot stared up at him, her face perfectly serene. "Captain, I understand this is difficult for you--"

"Do you?" His tone was sharp and angry, and if Margot wasn't used to men lashing out at her, she would have been taken aback. "Because, with all due respect, Agent Thompson, I don't think anyone knows exactly what I'm going through."

Her chest constricted and Margot tucked a piece of hair behind her ear, standing up from her position, the table the only barrier between the two of them.

"You've just woken up to find everything you know gone. Your entire way of life, all of your friends and family, the people you love. It's all disappeared and you're desperate for anything familiar. Instead, all that's left are the expectations people have of you. And the realization that you've disappointed everyone you've ever known..."

Captain Rogers remained stoic, but she caught the subtle widening of his blue eyes, the shuffling of his feet, the clenching of his jaw.

She arched her brow, "Am I close, Captain?"

He took a seat.

She sat back down and opened his file, passing two pieces of paper over to him before ruffling through her bag for a pen. "As I mentioned before, Director Fury needs your signature on these forms before we can continue."

Captain Rogers scanned the form, reading through the contract first, the secondary psych assessment set aside for the time being. Margot knew the contract back to front, having written thousands of them for SHIELD agents in the past. This one was simply tweaked, replacing SHIELD with the Avengers Initiative.

"So this ties me to SHIELD then?" He asked, raising his eyebrows at her. Margot sighed and straightened her posture.

"In a way yes, but also no." She continued as a confused look crossed his face. "By signing that contract you are only beholden to missions that fall under the mantle of an Avengers Level threat. We haven't needed to use it since the 90s, but with the recent uptick in threats since Tony Stark's announcement--"

"Stark?"

Margot froze, suddenly putting the pieces together. Captain Rogers knew Howard Stark, the same way Peggy did. Of course that name would ring a bell. "Howard Stark's son," She continued, smiling softly as relief flooded Captain Rogers' face. "You'll be given files on all of your colleagues soon enough. But if you want I can schedule a visit to Stark Industries if it would help."

Captain Rogers stared out the window toward the hallway they'd just come from, agents in tactical gear passing by. No doubt returning from one of their missions. She wondered what exactly was going on inside his head. Was he seeing the faces of his fellow soldiers? Or strangers he would soon have to work with?

"Captain Rogers?"

He shook himself free and turned back to the papers before him. "No, thank you. Maybe another time." Quickly taking the pen, he signed his freedom away, and Margot knew the only reason he had was because of Fury's promise of Peggy Carter's life.

"Excellent," She shoved the growing feeling of discomfort away and slid the psych assessment his way. "This is a psych assessment, just a routine thing all agents have to fill out." She explained, sensing his confusion again. She stood up and slung her purse over her shoulder, "I'll give you some privacy."

Her hand was on the door handle when he called out after her. "Agent Thompson?" He asked, causing her to turn around. Her stomach flip-flopped and she met his gaze again. "Can I wait to fill this out? I don't really...I don't know these answers yet."

Fury would tell him no.

He would say that filing these things took time, time they didn't have.

But Captain Rogers was living in a new world. He'd just woken up not even six hours ago. And he was going to be isolated for a few months until SHIELD was positive he was fit for the job.

"Of course," She smiled, moving back to the table and collecting the papers, "I'll contact you at the end of your first week to see if anything's changed."

She stuffed the file in her bag and slid her key card through the lock, a beep signaling the opening of the door. Captain Rogers waited for her to step through first, and they continued on their way.

The airfield was windy and loud, quinjets and helicopters landing and taking off with little warning. Coulson was in charge of the Retreat Quinjet, although Margot could see the man trying to hold in his excitement at the sight of Captain America walking toward him.

"Wait here," She instructed, just a few paces away from the aircraft as she continued on her way. Captain Rogers was too much in awe of the aircrafts around him to argue with her.

"I thought you were dealing with aliens in New Mexico," Margot smirked as she met Coulson halfway. The agent's gaze was focused squarely on the man behind her. Coulson shook his head, "Oh no, I couldn't miss this. Besides, that one's all wrapped up."

Margot chuckled at the childlike behavior of the grown man, it was almost endearing. She couldn't remember the last time she'd felt anything like that when meeting someone new. "Just try to keep your fanboying in check okay? He's still adjusting."

"Coulson's not escorting him," Maria Hill's no nonsense voice cut through the conversation, slight amusement dancing in her eyes, "Although I'm sure he spent hours making sure everything was perfect for Captain Rogers' trip." The agent's lips twitched upward slightly, and Margot smirked.

"Right down to the star spangled decorations," She teased, building off of Hill's remark. The three agents shared a small laugh as Coulson's face grew red. The light tone of the conversation didn't last long, however, Hill switching back to business mode in a hurry.

"He signed everything?"

Margot nodded, "Everything except the psych eval. I gave him until the end of his first week there."

Hill arched an eyebrow, "You know how Fury's gonna feel about that."

"Then he can take it out on me." Margot snapped back, her tone letting the agent know her decision was final. She was tired of dealing with Fury's paranoid whims and endless secrets.

Hill nodded and held her hand out for the file, which Margot gladly handed over. When everything was deemed satisfactory, Hill signaled to the quinjet pilot, who moved to start the engine. "You know one of these days, you're gonna bend a rule too far Thompson," She joked, although it sounded more like a warning than anything else.

Margot shrugged, "Then it breaks." She responded, turning on her heel back toward the man out of time. "Captain!" She called, drawing the blonde man's attention her way, "Agent Hill is escorting you the rest of the way, but we're ready to go when you are."

Rogers stared up at the large jet before him, his Adam's apple bobbing up and down, hands in his pockets. "You're not coming?" He asked.

Margot shook her head, smiling inwardly at the soft anxiety that accompanied his words. "No, I was only assigned to help you transition. When you come back from the retreat, I'll be right by your side again. No worries."

That didn't seem to calm him down. Biting her cheek, Margot reached into her bag and pulled out one of the burner phones SHIELD always kept for their undercover agents. Hers had been wasting away in the bottom of her desk, unused since her last ops mission in Russia. "Here," She quickly typed in her number and pressed the device into Captain Rogers' hands, his rough palms sending a shiver down her back. "Select my name and press the green button and I'll be right on the other side."

Her lips twisted upward into another half-smile, the man examining the phone with creased brows and a frown before stuffing it in his jean pocket. "Thank you, Agent Thompson." He spoke softly, shoulders tensing up.

Margot couldn't blame him. "You're welcome, Captain Rogers."

She watched his form move further and further away from her until it disappeared into the quinjet, the soft rumbling of the ground beneath her feet signaling take off.

Margot stood there and watched, shielding her eyes from the spring sun and biting winds, wondering if the man aboard was ready for the world that awaited him.

★★★★