The door slams shut behind me, and suddenly the room feels too small for the both of us. Steve looks up from his desk, his enormous frame dwarfing the furniture—a giant in star-spangled fabric who still somehow manages to look like the same skinny kid from Brooklyn when he sees my face. The damn doctors kept me for hours, each one singing Captain America's praises while I smiled and agreed and felt myself growing tighter, hotter, more explosive with every word.

"How'd it go?" he asks, already knowing the answer. Already seeing the storm in my eyes.

I don't bother with pleasantries. "You're going to get us killed, Steve." My voice is low, controlled, but the tremor in my hands gives me away. I reach for my belt, the leather sliding through the loops with a sound like a threat. "You think this new body makes you invincible? They'll just throw more at you until something sticks."

He stands, those宽阔 shoulders squared, but there's that same look in his eyes—the one that says he knows he's fucked up and he's sorry and he'd do it all again anyway. "I had to become this, Buck. For you. For everyone."

"For me?" I laugh, bitter and harsh. "You did this for me?" The belt comes free with a sharp crack, and I see his breath catch. His pupils dilate, and for a split second, I hate him for that—for still wanting me when I'm this angry, for making me want him back despite everything.

I step closer, the belt coiled in my hand. "You think you're Captain America now? A hero?" My voice drops to a growl. "Prove it. Take your punishment like one."