Steve doesn’t say anything — he doesn’t answer, doesn’t go into any specifics, doesn’t do anything to make her worry any less. She’s been here for one day. He’s been here for over a hundred. He isn’t saying anything until he takes her to a place where there aren’t ears pressed to the wall.

“I was always a red, white and blue kinda guy.” As for where they were going? “You’ll see. We’re almost there.”

Steve trusts her, just as he trusted Tony two days ago. It’s blind and stupid but there was something in his gut that that tells Steve that they were real. Not clones sent by the Computer to test his loyalty. Real.

When they get off the elevator, the scenery changes dramatically. The rest of Alpha Complex might be some parts shiny, some parts industrial, but the underground floor they just stepped into was all parts abandoned. It gets worse from there. Twists and turns — maybe even the odd rattle or two from the ceilings or the walls, before Steve brings her right in front of a door. It doesn’t look like much.

Steve glances over, right before he reaches for the handle and pushes the door open and everything about the room screams Tony Stark. His tech, his layout, his half working lab made out of scrapes and pieces. But it also looks old and untouched. Like if Tony really made all this, he wasn’t still making it. Steve shuts the door behind her, and for the first time, there’s a look of relief in his eyes.

“Nat.” He shakes his head. “I don’t even know where to begin.” Everything about his body language changes — every part of him that had been tough or guarded or secretive on their whole way here, melts away. “I can’t believe you’re here.”

He’d hug her, if that was something they normally did. But it wasn’t.