La Petite Fleur

Retribution

He followed Natasha off the helicopter and crossed the deck of the Helicarrier in silence. He was vaguely aware of the active deck attendants and agents around him but he didn't care. When they finally reached Fury's office, Nat stood in the corner with her arms crossed and her eyes locked on the floor. Steve could only stare into empty space as the director chewed him out for everything that had happened.

"I can't believe the incompetence!" he shouted. "Two of my best agents and the entire event is plastered on every news channel, every radio station, every newspaper's front page. Normally I would dismiss the agents involved after taking their badges and wiping the record, but-"

Steve didn't even notice when Fury had stopped shouting until he rubbed his temples and leaned over Steve's seat. "Have you heard anything I've said?"

"Yes, sir."

"Rogers, I gave you strict orders and you not only directly disobeyed and attached yourself to the mission, but also lied about what was happening."

Steve met Fury's eye briefly before staring at the table again.

"And clearly, the repercussions of your actions don't bother you at all," Fury continued his rant.

"I've paid for what happened already. I know the consequences. I've felt the repercussions," Steve countered. "There isn't anything more you could do to tell me I was wrong. Believe me, if I could go back and change it, I would."

Fury straightened, apparently satisfied. "Dismissed."

Steve pushed away from the table and left the room in a controlled rush, desperate to be gone from Fury's sight. When he reached the room allotted to him for brief stays on the ship, he sank onto the mattress and stretched his neck. The Director had mentioned that they would be dropping him off in New York tomorrow, so he didn't bother unpacking.

He sighed and began filing the report for the record of missions. Every time a detail was required about Antoinette, he offered it freely, from her past and the murder of her parents to everything of importance that had happened in Paris and on tour, to the scuffle in the catacombs. There was no reason for him to hide anything now.

Plans to leave him in New York had changed, and after two weeks had passed aboard the Helicarrier, Steve had run several easy, mindless missions. He felt himself yearning for real work. Just when he thought Fury would give him a tough project, the Director summoned Steve to the observation deck.

"Captain," he greeted, turning away from the command center.

"Director," Steve replied, somewhat curtly.

"I have a project for you in Washington. The file is in Commander Hill's office."

"Yes, sir," he accepted, getting up to leave.

"And Rogers?" Fury called him back.

"Sir?"

"Do it right this time," the director finished, shooting him a pointed look.

Steve hesitated in the doorway before taking the route to Commander Hill's office. When he knocked on the door, it slid aside immediately.

"Oh, Rogers, yes," she said, sounding surprised.

"Something wrong, ma'am?" he asked, following her into the office.

She shook her head. "I didn't think you'd come this soon." She paused and looked up from straightening some papers on her desk. "This is about the Washington mission, isn't it?"

He nodded and watched as she opened a drawer and pulled out a tablet. "Steve," she said with her voice thick with warning. "Be careful with this. And please, keep it solely as a mission."