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CHAPTER THREE

SAFEHOUSE

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THE WEEK PASSED BY QUICKLY and things were finally starting to get back to normal, although every once in a while Margot found her thoughts drifting to the super soldier at Lake Ontario. More often than not, she found herself staring at her phone during the work day, as if anticipating a call she knew she'd never get.

From what she'd been briefed on, the first week had gone well, despite the dirty looks from Fury whenever he brought up the psych form.

She supposed she would have to get used to it.

Finalizing the contract Captain Rogers had signed, Margot shut her laptop for the day, ready to go home to her apartment and sleep the stress away. With one final look at her phone, she shoved it into her trench pocket, heels clicking against the tile floors as she made her way to the elevator, the ding of the doors always catching her off guard.

"There she is!" Javier's face met her as she stepped out of the room, a wide smile stretching the stubble he'd been growing out for the past month. Margot cocked an eyebrow, "You ready for our weekend tradition?"

Her suspicions turned into mirthful chuckles as she shouldered her bag, smiling as she began to walk in tandem with the curly haired man. "Believe me, after the week I've had I could use it."

Javier hissed, a wet sound that made Margot cringe, "That bad huh?"

Margot shook her head, "You try dealing with Fury's wrath and a walking relic in the same week." Javier shook his head and pulled her closer, squeezing her shoulder.

"Oh come on, I'm sure he's not that bad."

"Captain Rogers? No. Fury?" Margot pretended to muse on the point for a bit with a smirk, "Jury's still out."

She and Javier burst into short laughs and the two of them reached the security scanners just as the sun began to set.

Something vibrated in her pocket. "Hang on," Margot reached into her trench coat and pulled out the smartphone, nearly dropping it when she saw who was calling.

"Captain Rogers?" She answered, stomach churning at why he was suddenly calling her when all the reports indicated he was perfectly fine. Javier stopped in his tracks as he heard the name. "Is everything alright?"

Silence hung on the other line and Margot felt her pulse speed up.

"Yeah," He finally responded, causing the agent to let out a sigh of relief, "It's just...I'm having trouble...sleeping."

Confusion bubbled in Margot's stomach. He called her just for that? Didn't SHIELD have agents stationed there to help him? People he could talk to? "Oh, I see." Javier pressed his ear against the back of the phone, basically hearing every word of the conversation, "Have you tried a benadryl?"

More silence and Javier shook his head, mouthing 'he doesn't know what that is' before growing quiet under Margot's withering look.

Unfortunately, Javier was right. "Bena...what?"

Margot let out a soft sigh, "Right, it's a type of sleep medication. You take one and it should knock you right out."

More silence.

"What does it look like?"

Margot shared a look of annoyance with Javier, the latter arching his eyebrow at her behavior. She supposed he had a point. The man was out of time after all. Maybe she should have given him some before he left. Although why the hell would they have agents stationed there if not to do this exact thing? She held back a sigh, "Look for a white bottle with a pink label, you don't have to take it right now but it should help."

Distant shuffling sounded in her ear as cupboards opened and closed, a soft rattling echoing on the other side of the phone. "I don't see it. Maybe you could let Fury know his superhero needs some of that newfangled medication."

She chuckled as she recognized the sardonic tone. At least he hadn't lost his sense of humor over the last 70 years. "I'll let him know immediately."

Captain Rogers sighed, clearly upset at having to call someone he didn't know to get access to something he should have been given, "Sorry for bugging you with this."

Margot's chest panged with sympathy as she waved his worried away, although he couldn't see her over the phone, "Don't worry about it, it's the least we can do."

Captain Rogers chuckled, slow and sarcastic, "Maybe it's for the best, I've been sleeping for 70 years anyway."

Her chest tightened and she and Javier shared a worried look. Even if he was right, SHIELD needed him operating at full capacity, and unfortunately SHIELD's interests were her interests.

"I'll talk to Fury about it," Margot assured him, softening her voice, "Even supersoldiers need sleep."

She thought she could hear him smile on the other line, "Thank you."

Margot's lips twitched upward and she hung up, meeting Javier's gaze with an apologetic smile.

"No, don't you even think–"

"Javi, please, it's five minutes–"

"It will definitely take more than five minutes–"

"You heard Captain Rogers–"

He bit down on his cheek and let out a dramatic sigh, but the glint in his eyes made it clear he understood. Besides, he'd always had to pull her out of a work spiral anyway, at least this time she'd given him a timetable. "Five minutes," Javier repeated, setting a timer on his phone and wiggling it in her face, "I'll be keeping count, Thompson."

"I love you so much you know that?" She squeezed his hand and rushed off towards the elevator.

Javi rolled his eyes and crossed his arms, but a small smile tugged on the edge of his lips as he called out after her, "Just don't be late for karaoke!"

She tossed him a thumbs up and increased her pace, her heels barely slowing her down. Another skill her Aunt thought it pertinent to learn. After all, she'd done most of her work before women were allowed to wear tactical suits and pants, so it was only fair she'd teach Margot the same strategies.

"Agent Thompson!" She froze in her tracks, Maria standing right in front of her with her arms crossed and a stern look in her gaze. "Fury's office. Now."

Considering that's exactly where she was going, it took marginally less time than her first visit that week. She was shoved into Fury's office and the man's eyepatch stared directly into her determined gaze.

"You gave Captain Rogers one of our phones?" She didn't shrink under his gaze nor the raised tone of his voice.

Margot wasn't an idiot. But she figured the burner wasn't traceable, at least that's what SHIELD had told her. She should've known better.

"You're tracking his calls?"

"Of course we are." Fury scoffed, like it was common knowledge, "We're tracking his every move, making sure he doesn't do stupid things like call one of our agents and give away his position."

Margot stiffened, the knot in her stomach growing tighter as she bit down harder on her cheek.

Fury leaned on the table, an expression matching his name decorating his face. "Were you out of your goddamn mind Agent Thompson? Giving Rogers a device that anyone could trace? Leading straight to your door when we are trying to keep him out of the public eye?"

Margot moved to defend herself but Fury cut her off.

"Your job was to help transition Rogers and convince him to join the Avengers, giving him a cellphone was not part of that job description."

"No, but he wanted--"

Fury moved around the table, his coat dragging behind him, "I don't give a rat's ass about what Rogers wanted or didn't want. You put him and SHIELD at risk--"

"Has he been talking to your agents?" Margot cut the man off, clenching her jaw at the insult. Fury went silent. "What about the daily check-ins? Has he filled out the eval form yet?"

Again the man was silent.

Margot took a step forward, staring down her boss, well aware of the consequences of her actions. "Captain Rogers hasn't been sleeping. And I can guarantee you, none of your on-site agents probably knew that at all."

Fury moved back to his chair and sat down, crossing his hands over his stomach, arching his eyebrow. "That's what he called you for?"

Margot nodded, crossing her arms and swallowing the lump in her throat, "Today was the first day he used the phone and he only used it to call me. Clearly, I must be doing something right."

"Clearly," Fury scanned her face, the wheels in his head already turning. She hated it. He was completely unreadable, which made it impossible for her to navigate any kind of conversation with him. "Congratulations, Agent Thompson, you've earned his trust."

Her heart jumped in her throat, "Now, I wouldn't say that–"

"You're correct, none of our agents had that information," Fury continued, not even bothering to correct her, "Captain Rogers has been tight-lipped about everything. He refuses to speak to any of them. So what would you have us do?"

Margot's gut twisted and her jaw clenched. She knew what he wanted her to do. What she needed to do. But it was not what she wanted to do. Unfortunately for her, she rarely got what she wanted these days. Margot knew she was gonna pay for this decision, but it was the logical next step. Besides, maybe it would actually help, being away from everything for a bit.

"Send me. If you're right and he trusts me," her breath hitched as she spoke the word aloud, "We can use that to not only help him transition better, but also to determine the exact state he's in before the Tesseract inevitably explodes."

Fury simply stared at her, the ghost of a smile on his face as he narrowed his gaze, "Alright Thompson, if that's your call."

God, she hated when he did that.

It wasn't her call.

Not really.

But to be completely honest, she felt better knowing it was her they were sending and not someone else. Someone who would poke and prod at Captain Rogers like a lab rat to be studied.

She knew from his file that he'd had enough of that for one lifetime.

Margot straightened her posture and swept her hands down her clothes, straightening her jacket, "It is, sir." She cleared her throat, but the lump refused to dislodge.

Instead, it sank into her stomach where it curled and coiled into a tight knot.

Fury nodded. "Then I suggest you head home to pack. An escort will be driving you to the airport for your secure flight to the Retreat later tonight."

"Thank you sir."

When she was back in her apartment, Margot finally allowed herself to breathe. A duffel bag sat on her bed, unsure of how long she was supposed to spend at the safehouse. Her gut told her there would probably be a washing machine there, so she packed casually. A few outfits she could wear and rewear without sacrificing her own comfort.

Margot stuck her phone in her ear as she moved from her bedroom to the kitchenette, Javier's cheerful voicemail greeting her instead of the man himself.

"This is Javi, leave a message after the beep, or whatever you feel like."

"Hey, Javi," Margot moved back into her bedroom, rolling up a few pairs of jeans and picking out t-shirts and sweaters that would go along with them, "It's Margot. Listen, Fury's sending me to the Retreat until further notice, so I wanted to let you know that I won't be able to make it to karaoke tonight, I'm sorry."

Moving back to the kitchenette, she turned to the medicine cabinet and grabbed her own bottle of benadryl, stuffing it in one of the side pockets of the duffel. "I'll make it up to you I promise."

She ended the voicemail and ran her fingers through her dirty blonde locks, her chest twisting at the thought of abandoning Javier after he'd been so excited. Margot had to admit, she loved their weird little tradition. The pizza parlor hopping followed by a night of hard drinks at their favorite karaoke bar.

Whoever paid for the drinks was exempt from karaoke for the night, with the exception of one duet (Javier's personal rule). The blonde smiled softly at the fond memories of those nights, at least the ones she remembered.

Something soft bubbled in her chest before it twisted again. Margot turned her focus back to her packing, stuffing one of her favorite button-down shirts into the small space before standing back to double check that she had everything. So far, she only had her toiletries left to pack, but that wouldn't take that long. She stared down at her own outfit, the blazer and heels seeming too formal for this mission. Not to mention, she wasn't being monitored by Fury the way Captain Rogers was.

Slipping into a pair of jeans and sneakers, Margot shed her blazer for one of the leather jackets she favored, sinking into the soft material. A knock at the door made her crease her eyebrows in confusion. The escort wasn't supposed to be here until 6:30 according to Hill, and it was barely six o'clock.

Margot peeked through the peep-hole and when she saw who it was, opened the door with an equally confused look on her face.

"Dad? What are you doing here?"

Jim Whittaker took one long look at her before gesturing to her apartment, "I came to see how you were doing."

Margot motioned for him to come in and shut the door behind her, noticing the manila folders in his hand. "Working on another case?" She asked, pointing out the folders. Her dad let out a sigh and handed them to her.

"Actually I could use your help with these." He admitted, his balding head showing flecks of gray among the typical brunette color, "We're trying to pin down this guy Aaron Davis, he keeps getting arrested but we can't seem to keep him in jail. Maybe you can help."

Margot nodded and began to look through the files, only able to spare them a glance before checking her watch. "What's he in for?"

Jim shrugged, "Petty theft, a few muggings..."

Margot cocked an eyebrow, "And you want to keep him locked up because...?"

Her dad let out a sigh and shoved his hands in the pockets of his jacket, "The Captain thinks he might be involved in something bigger. He thinks Davis could be involved in a future tech heist against Osborn Industries."

"And you don't?"

Jim shrugged and crossed his arms, "You know me, I deal with evidence and facts, not speculation." He grabbed one of the files from her, "And right now there is no evidence to suggest Davis is anything but small-time."

Margot nodded and took it back from him, tucking the files close to her chest. "I have a few weeks off, so I'll see what I can do."

She leaned into his embrace, Jim placing a quick kiss in her hair, "Thanks baby,"

Margot smiled at her father's term of endearment, "No problem, Dad."

His eyes landed on the duffel bag and he arched an eyebrow in curiosity, "You going somewhere?"

Margot placed the files on the counter and crossed her arms, "My few weeks off comes with a caveat." She explained with a small eye roll, "I just have to keep an asset company up at Lake Ontario."

Jim's throat moved up and down and his jaw clenched. "And your boss suggested this?"

Margot shook her head and let out a deep sigh, "The asset we have isn't talking to anyone else but me at the moment, so I offered to go."

Jim swallowed, hands on his hips as he sent her a look, "Margot..."

"Before you say anything, I didn't exactly have a choice," She explained, interrupting what she was sure was another spiel about her job from her father. Today was not the day for that. "Besides, they're treating him like some kind of lab rat." She zipped up her duffel and tossed it on the couch, crossing her arms as she faced her dad with a shrug, "At least this way, I can ensure he's actually prepared for the challenges they want him to tackle instead of throwing him into something he's not ready for."

"It's not your job!" He exclaimed, anguish crossing his face. She flinched at the raised tone, squeezing her arms tighter. Her father let out an exhausted sigh, placing his hands on his hips, "You're a lawyer," He reminded her. She gulped. "And a damn good one. You don't need to be a babysitter for these superheroes when you could be making a real difference out there."

He pointed to the streets of New York, the lights of the city shining through her window like a beacon calling her to war.

He was right.

Margot bit her cheek. Didn't he know how much she wished to leave? How unhappy she was at SHIELD? Out of everyone, her dad should know exactly how she feels.

"I can't leave," She choked out.

Jim grasped her hands, and Margot felt sixteen again, being reassured that her mistakes didn't define her. Reassured that she would have a life after all of this. Her father's brown eyes bored into hers, swirling with a confidence she wished she possessed. "Yes you can. There's nothing this Fury has on you that we, as a family, can't get through."

Pressure built behind her eyes and a lump lodged itself in her throat.

"You're wrong," She shook her head, voice thick with the guilt that swirled in her stomach. Her father creased his brow. Her jaw set and her vision blurred from the welling of saltwater in her eyes. "I can't leave." She emphasized, her voice cracking on the final word.

Margot collapsed into her dad's embrace, feeling like a little girl again as he comforted her after she scraped her knee.

"It's okay," He whispered, rubbing her back, "It's gonna be okay."

She wanted to believe him.

But she couldn't.

★★★★

STEVE STARED OUT at the lake the safehouse had been built next to, taking in the picturesque scene that had been built for him, right down to the cozy atmosphere of the cabin he'd been imprisoned in.

His mind tried to shake away the weight of that word, but that's exactly what this was. What the contract he'd signed was. What the deal he'd agreed to was. It was all a prison, meant to keep him working for this agency until it was time to cut him loose.

Just like the army did until he'd proven his worth by saving the 107th.

He didn't know the consequences of defying this new agency. Would he be punished or celebrated? Given a promotion or shoved in a costume to perform once again?

He sighed and turned his attention back to the files he'd been reading through most of the day. Just like Agent Thompson had suggested, all of them were debriefs about the people who were being considered for the so-called Avengers Initiative.

So far they included a man named Bruce Banner who could transform into a beast beyond anything Steve could have imagined, but that wasn't what he was paying attention to. Dr. Banner apparently had several degrees in theoretical physics, a man who would know exactly how this new world worked.

The other recruit made Steve's insides curl up, almost the spitting image of a man he knew 70 years ago, although according to the file, their personalities couldn't be more different.

Anthony Stark.

Tony.

Iron Man, the world called him. He briefly recognized the name from his conversation with Agent Thompson, claiming that he was the reason the Avengers Initiative had been put into place.

Why he'd been freed from the ice.

Why he'd been trapped here.

Steve prided himself on his understanding, on the open-mind his mother had raised him to have. But the smug look on Stark's face and the footage of the reveal SHIELD had provided him with stung Steve, rubbing the supersoldier the wrong way.

Just as smart as Howard.

Just as proud.

But none of the caution. Steve tossed the file away and placed his chin in his palm.

The door creaked behind him and he let out a reluctant sigh, knowing it was another attempt by SHIELD to get him to talk.

"I haven't changed my mind," He announced, not even bothering to look at the door. The last thing they'd asked him about was discussing the Howling Commandos, a group of people that had almost disappeared in the years he'd been asleep. Only Dugan seemed to be left.

"Even if I brought the pills?"

The teasing voice of Agent Thompson drew his attention to the door, the woman dressed far more casually than the last time he'd seen her. Her dirty blonde hair was pulled back in a ponytail, and a duffel bag hung by her side.

So she was their new strategy.

Steve scoffed. "They send you in to try and weasel information out of me?"

Agent Thompson tilted her head, lips twisting upward at his comment, "Actually I volunteered, brought some stuff to help you sleep too, but if you'd rather I leave..."

"No," Steve called after her, gut twisting that his phone call had caused her to go out of her way to check up on him. Guilt pulsed through his veins. He shouldn't have assumed. "I just--"

"You're used to the agents here," She finished for him, a knowing look in her green eyes, "I get it."

Steve nodded.

Agent Thompson dropped her bag and moved through the cabin, staring at the wooden walls and the small space. A second level held two bedrooms with an adjoining bathroom. SHIELD has already set up everything for him in the bigger room before he'd arrived. It was filled with plaid shirts and khakis and comforts Steve was never allowed to have. The bed was too soft, the covers too thick, and it was all frighteningly bare. The throw blankets and pillows scattered across the cabin gave the illusion of comfort, but Steve felt anything but. He wondered if Agent Thompson could see it too.

Her eyes landed on the files, "Catching up?" She asked.

Steve nodded, rubbing the back of his head, nerves knotting up in his throat. What was he supposed to do? She probably knew the cabin better than he did, but it was almost as if she was waiting for him to do something.

"Right," Agent Thompson broke the silence with a tight smile, shouldering her duffel bag as she looked around the cabin again, "I'm gonna go get set up. Give you some privacy for a bit."

"Sounds good," Steve rushed out his response, watching her disappear up the stairs to the empty room before hanging his head between his arms, hands braced against the kitchen counter.

Was this how it was supposed to be now?

How was he even supposed to act around her? They weren't co-workers really or even acquaintances. Plus with all the modern rules he'd slowly been studying up on, he wasn't sure he could hold a conversation with someone like her.

And then there was the fact that she'd be staying overnight with him. Granted, they were in separate rooms and he didn't know if she was married or not, but it still made him feel uncomfortable with the whole situation.

He was an unmarried man staying with a so far unmarried woman.

But she didn't seem perturbed by it.

But then again, she'd been in this world for a lot longer than he had.

When she reappeared again, her jacket had disappeared and she carried a white bottle, arms bare as she joined him in the kitchen. "Right, so first thing's first," She shook the bottle, the sound of pills rattling, "This is benadryl. I wasn't sure if they stocked you with any so I brought my own. It works miracles when it comes to sleeping."

Steve examined the white and pink bottle, trying to twist the cap off, but even his own strength failed.

Agent Thompson made an amused face and snatched the bottle back from him, "Right, childproof caps, you didn't exactly have those in the 40s."

Steve chuckled and shook his head, "Not where I'm from at least."

Her chuckle alleviated some of the pressure on his shoulders and he watched as she pushed down and twisted. "Opening these can be a bitch sometimes."

Once again Steve couldn't help the smirk that crossed his face at the sound of her cursing. It made her seem human. Something Steve had rarely seen among the SHIELD agents who had poked and prodded and pressured him over the last week. "Ta-da!" She exclaimed, holding the cap in one hand and the bottle in the other.

He chuckled at the gesture and clapped for her efforts. Her soft giggle echoed through the kitchen as she closed the bottle. "Again, take one of those and you're out like a light."

She snapped her fingers, ponytail bouncing as she put the bottle away. Still, when he met her gaze, the knot in Steve's throat returned, dropping to his stomach as he realized exactly what this was.

They were using her to get him to talk.

"Now to business." She began, an almost apologetic look on her face. Steve wondered how much of it was real and how much of it was an act. He stiffened as she moved closer, one arm on the counter as she leaned on her leg, breathing out a sigh,"I need you to fill out that psych eval form."

Steve bit the inside of his cheek, nodding his head slowly as his suspicions were confirmed. "So that's what you're here for."

Agent Thompson's eyes softened, "It's my job, Captain Rogers."

He nodded sourly, a bitter taste in his mouth as he gathered up the files on the counter and made his way back to his living quarters, "I understand, Agent."

The knot sunk deeper and deeper as he turned his back on her and closed the door, tossing the files on the creaky bed before sinking into it. He hung his head again, the constant headaches returning.

It was too much.

All he'd done since waking up was talk about how fine he was. All they'd done to him was confine him. This was no different. This was worse.

Cause now the private time he'd thought he'd been given had all been an illusion. He wasn't by himself anymore.

Now there would always be someone hovering over him, waiting to pounce at his most vulnerable moment.

A soft knock was heard on his door. "Captain Rogers, I'm only trying to help."

Steve ignored it.

★★★★