September 12th, 2013
New York City, New York—Avengers Tower, 75th floor

"What do you mean it was Coulson? Quinn?"

Quinn could hear Steve talking to her, but he sounded far away. Everything sounded far away beyond the rush of her thoughts and the pounding of her heart in her ears. They were in her room—she didn't remember taking the elevator down fifteen floors—and she was sitting on her bed, which she also didn't remember doing. Steve was sitting on a chair facing her, his back to the wall of windows and balcony beyond. She could see the concern and confusion in his features and she wanted to respond, to say something, but her mouth didn't seem to work.

Her brain didn't seem to work properly either. It just kept going in circles: It can't be Coulson. Coulson died. But it sounded like him. It was his phone. He mentioned a secure, undisclosed SHIELD location only an agent would know the location of. But Coulson's dead. It can't be Coulson. Coulson died.

Around and around again.

It wasn't until Steve reached out and placed a hand tentatively on her forearm that she snapped out of the loop. She met his gaze, tried to smile, but her mouth just moved in a series of weird twitches. Without thought, she rotated her arm so she could grab onto Steve. The touch anchored her. He adjusted his grip so they were holding each other's forearms.

"How could that have been Agent Coulson on the phone?" he asked. His voice was clearer now, but still quiet, like he was afraid to make any loud noises or sudden movements.

Quinn didn't blame him; she felt wound tight enough to snap at the slightest provocation. In fact, she was kind of surprised she hadn't snapped already. "I… I don't know," she managed to say. Her grip on Steve tightened as a wave of emotion surged within her, as memories of lying on her living room floor, head swimming with booze as she tried to fight off the horrifying dreams where Coulson asked why she hadn't saved him, why she hadn't done more flashed through her mind. "B-but… It was. Steve, it was him. I know it was." Her voice was stronger as she pressed her other hand against her sternum, a lame attempt to stall the grief and relief and fear and joy rising inside.

A sob escaped despite her best efforts, and then she was crying, and Steve was sitting on the bed beside her, drawing her onto his lap and into his arms and holding her much the way he had after Coulson had died and she'd been near inconsolable. Quinn clung to Steve's shirt with both hands, her face pressed into his shoulder, as everything broke free. Steve's arms were strong around her, his lips warm on her forehead. He was saying something to her, but Quinn couldn't make out the words above her tears. She wasn't sure she was supposed to.

"What did he say?" Steve asked once Quinn had calmed a few moments later. He was still holding her close, his lips brushing against her skin as he spoke.

Quinn waited a bit before she answered, just enough time to reluctantly disengage from Steve. She had to face this on her own two feet. "He told me to go to a SHIELD airfield. One that hasn't been used in a while. He said he'd explain what he could when I got there." Quinn shook her head and scrubbed her hands over her face, removing the tears still clinging to her cheeks; she couldn't believe she'd fallen apart so fast. This should be good news. "I… It just all came back when I heard his voice," she told Steve apologetically, hoping he'd know what she was referring to.

"I think you held it together fairly well, considering the man who was effectively your father for much of your life has come back from the dead." There was a slight tilt to Steve's mouth.

Quinn couldn't stop the smile, not that she would have wanted to. "Sure, Cap."

"What are you going to do?"

"I have to go, don't I? I can't… I can't pass this up. He called me on his secure SHIELD line, so it has to be him. Or…" Quinn's mind started to spin for a different reason then. What if it wasn't Coulson? What if it was something or someone pretending to be him? Someone or something that had managed to get ahold of his phone and was able to emulate his voice and knew the location of a secure SHIELD airfield… No, she knew in her heart that it was him. That Coulson had somehow come back. "I'm going."

"Do you want me to come with you?"

Quinn shouldn't have been taken back by the offer, by the lack of hesitation, but she was. She wasn't sure why. Maybe it was just that she wasn't used to Steve being there anymore. Maybe it was because she expected him to think she was crazy; a small voice in the back of her own mind thought she was crazy for even thinking about going to the airfield. It could be dangerous. It probably was dangerous. But when had that stopped Captain America before?

"Do you want to?" she asked, half afraid of the answer.

Again, there was no hesitation. "Yes."

There was no hesitation in Quinn either when she flung her arms around Steve and hugged him tight. "Thank you."

Steve's arms sliding around her felt like a puzzle piece clicking into place. Quinn held the hug for a while longer, savouring the warmth and safety she felt there; it would be good to have Steve at her back as she faced what might be the scariest thing she ever had to.

September 12th, 2013
Undisclosed Location—remote SHIELD airfield

It was nearing evening when the helicopter Quinn and Steve had taken from New York finally touched down on the dusty tarmac of the SHIELD airfield Coulson had asked them to meet him at. As the rotor blades slowed, Quinn stared at her feet, studied every detail of her black boots, nerves fluttering around her gut, wondering how on earth she was supposed to handle this. This was something no one could ever be fully prepared for. She supposed she would do whatever felt right when she saw Coulson—when she saw it was really him.

Steve had decided to stay in the helicopter to give Quinn and Coulson more privacy, but he would be prepared to jump in if it wasn't actually Coulson, if there was any danger to Quinn. All she had to do was yell for him; he'd hear. Right then, however, he just reached over and rubbed Quinn's back, squeezed the back of her neck.

She gave him a small smile as she pulled off the headset; it wasn't needed now that the helicopter wasn't in the air. After a few more seconds gathering herself together when all she wanted to do was hold on to Steve and let herself fall apart again, Quinn climbed out of the aircraft and started towards the hanger, her hands balled into fists and shoved deep in the pockets of her bomber jacket. For the first time in a long time, she could feel the electricity in her leg brace pulsing through her flesh, but she couldn't be sure if it was real or if she was just imagining the sensation, if it was her nerves getting to her.

As Quinn approached the hangar, she could make out about a dozen people moving boxes of supplies and equipment up the ramp of an old airborne mobile command station: a vehicle SHIELD hadn't used in years, not since the completion and implementation of the helicarriers. But the massive black plane looked new or, at least, newly refurbished. It was impressive. Quinn pressed her lips together over a slowly-spreading smile—there was no one besides the real Phil Coulson who would request old tech be brought into the sun. Coulson loved retro spy stuff, and while the plane didn't exactly qualify as "retro," since it had last been used in the 90s, it was part of Coulson's own history with SHIELD and would hold just as special a spot as the Howling Commandos gear he'd collected.

Quinn stopped to let a fuelling vehicle pass, and when she had eyes on the hangar again, Phil Coulson was walking down the steps out of the plane, and seeing him kept her rooted to the spot.

He stopped one of the frantically moving agents and they chatted for a moment, giving Quinn time to survey her former boss. From that distance, she could see nothing different about Coulson. He looked exactly as he had the last time she'd seen him before he was stabbed, held himself the same way, moved the same way. Which felt… wrong.

Shouldn't he look different? Changed?

Quinn had been changed by that horrific event.

When he finished speaking to the agent, he turned and looked directly at her, like he'd known she was there, like he'd felt her arrive. The smile that took over his face kindled a warmth in Quinn—it felt like coming home—and then she was moving, crossing the distance between them, and throwing her arms around Coulson without thought, holding herself against him like he'd vanish the minute she let go.

"Hey, Kid," he said quietly, squeezing her just as tight.

Quinn laughed through sudden tears. "Hey, Boss." She stepped out of the hug and looked Coulson over: same suit, same shirt, same demeanour, same smile, same… There. A slightly haunted look in his eyes. That look made Quinn even more sure than she had been that this was her boss, her Coulson. That he was actually back. Somehow. Her mind was still having some trouble processing, but he was right there, in front of her. "How… How are you here? How are you okay?"

"I'm not really sure. Apparently the director ordered an experimental procedure to be performed on me. Something they'd been developing for if an Avenger fell." Coulson levelled an incredulous look at Quinn and it was so comforting to see it again that she chuckled. "Extreme measures, he called it." Coulson gave her the half-smile she was so familiar with, that she'd missed so much. Some of her nervousness eased. "I read the file, but I couldn't make much sense of it. All I have left from the incident is a nasty scar where Loki stabbed me." He paused. Coughed once, clearing his throat. "They sent me to Tahiti to recover once the procedure was done. It's a magical place."

Quinn frowned, something in his tone putting her off, but it only lasted a second before a hot wave of anger shot through her as she processed the rest of what he'd said. "I can't believe no one told me. If Fury ordered the procedure, then Maria knew too. They kept me in the dark! I—"

"Kid—"

"They could have told me when they decided to go ahead with the procedure! When you were recovering! I would have left you alone. Okay, maybe I would have insisted on calling you or something, but I should have known!"

"Quinn—"

"And how long have you been back at work? All this—" she gestured wildly at the activity around them "—didn't happen overnight. You should have called me right away! As soon as you were back! I should have known this was happening. I should— I should have been told, Coulson!" Her voice cracked as she started crying again, a sob escaping her control. She wiped her cheeks roughly, angry at her emotions fluctuating out of her control. "Why didn't you tell me!"

There were tears in Coulson's eyes too, but he didn't approach; he knew better than to touch Quinn before she'd calmed a bit. "Kid… Kid, I wanted to tell you. As soon as I was conscious enough to know what was going on, I wanted to call you, but you were so busy getting everything set up for your new job—I'm proud of you, by the way—and no one outside those who needed to know was told about the procedure in case it didn't work." Quinn hiccoughed, and Coulson brought her into another hug. "I told you as soon as I could," he whispered.

Quinn huffed and wrapped her arms around Coulson again, pressing her face into his shoulder. "I know," she finally relented. She clung to Coulson again and concentrated on her breathing, on calming herself. Only when she felt better, and not a moment before, did she step back.

"Do you want to meet the team?" Coulson asked as they withdrew from the hug.

"Sure. Why wasn't I asked to be a part of it?" she asked, wiping her cheeks again as they started walking towards the plane. Coulson had enough clearance and clout with Fury to personally assemble his team, regardless of existing assignments. But there was no real anger in her voice.

"Do you really think I would take you away from the Avengers, Kid? Away from Captain America?"

Quinn pressed her lips into a white line. "No, but I had to ask. And Cap's in DC now, leading Strike Team Delta, which has been reconfigured."

"I know. I read the files."

"Of course you did."

"How are you doing?" Coulson asked, his voice taking on a different tone.

"I'm mostly okay. He's here," she said, nodding towards the helicopter. "He came with me to offer support."

"And take me out if I wasn't really me?"

"Well, yeah. Did you really think I'd come without backup?"

"No. I trained you better than that." Coulson draped an arm over Quinn's shoulder in a one-armed hug. "Didn't think it'd be Captain American, but…"

Quinn returned the hug by wrapping her arm around Coulson's middle. "We'll make sure you get to say hi and goodbye before we leave."

Coulson started walking towards the plane, pulling free of the hug as he walked. "I would love to have you with me on this, Quinn," he said seriously, "but from what I've read and what Fury's told me, you're great at your job, you've developed relationships with most of the Avengers, you're excellent at coordinating with local authorities, and you've never let any harm come to any civilians connected to the Avengers. Not to mention taking charge of both the PR and Stark Industries personnel. You're doing the job you were meant for, and it would be impossible to replace you effectively." Coulson led Quinn up the cargo ramp, between an old van and a shiny red convertible Quinn hadn't seen in years. "Besides, I think chasing down 8-0-4s would be boring to you now."

"You might be right, though we had some fun chasing 8-0-4s." Chasing one had almost led to her losing her life and had damaged her irrevocably, but she didn't mention that. That 8-0-4 had been Mjolnir, Thor's hammer. She touched her leg brace briefly.

"I'm proud of you, Quinn."

Quinn smiled and placed a hand lightly on the leather headrest of the convertible's passenger seat. "Nice to see you were allowed to bring Lola along, Boss."

"Director Fury was surprisingly accommodating."

Quinn raised an eyebrow. If it had been for anyone other than Coulson, Fury's accommodations would seem out of character, but Coulson was well-versed in getting what he wanted from the director. Friendship, and history, went a long way with both of them. She opened her mouth to say something, but was cut off by the approach of a tall man with black hair and blank expression—a man Quinn hadn't seen since her time at the SHIELD academy.

"Hello, Ward," she said coldly. It wasn't necessarily that she didn't like Ward—she had no serious reason to, really, except his betrayal of her in the game of War the year she'd graduated from the academy; she would have won if he hadn't tricked her and the rest of their allied team—but they'd never clicked and they had remained polite at best to one another. "It's been a long time."

He looked from Quinn to Coulson and back again after only getting no information from Coulson. "Quinn. What are you doing here?"

"Just here to see my mentor off." She crossed her arms loosely under her chest. "You sure about him, Boss?"

Coulson adopted a satisfied, amused expression as he slipped his hands into his pants pockets. "I figured I'd give him a shot. His academy scores are among the highest and his mission record is nearly flawless. Can't hurt to have a good ops man on the team."

Ward rolled his eyes and left the cargo bay, heading deeper into the plane through what looked like a laboratory of some kind.

"Better be careful," Quinn said, raising her voice so it followed Ward, "he's not a team player!"

Ward raised a hand with his middle finger extended above his head.

Coulson chuckled. "Was that fun?"

Quinn shrugged, unwinding her arms. She felt better; it almost felt like nothing had changed. Aside from the faint, haunted look in his eyes, Coulson was exactly the same. Their relationship was exactly the same. Teasing Ward had made her smile. Laugh. "It was," she said. "Ward's good though. Always was."

"I know. Come on," he urged, heading deeper into the plane. "The others should be around here somewhere."

A spiral staircase stood in front of the van, stark black in the steel-blue cargo bay. A few steps from the top of the stairs there was a short hallway which in turn opened onto a lounge decorated in shades of white and beige. It was bland—SHIELD standard—but there were cozy sleeping pods, a bar, and a few tables scattered around a central ops station stuffed with state-of-the-art equipment. Quinn took it all in quickly, and then turned her attention to the three people sitting around one of the tables.

"Guys," Coulson said, drawing three sets of eyes to them, "this is Agent Quinn Scott, SHIELD liaison to the Avengers and my former protegé. Quinn, meet Leo Fitz and Jemma Simmons, both brilliant scientists who have never been in the field before, and Skye, a hacker from The Rising Tide that we picked up during the Mike Peterson incident, who will be working with us as a consultant."

Quinn, who had read the reports on that incident and been informed by Fury that it was nothing to worry about and he had another team on it, rolled her eyes and tilted her head back in exasperation. "Of fucking course that was you, Boss." When she looked at Coulson again though, she was grinning. "Sounds like you've put together an, uh, interesting team. It's nice to meet you all," she said.

"So, wait," Skye said, blinking a few times, and putting her hands flat on the table in front of her. "You work with the Avengers? Like, all the time?"

"Oh yes, can you tell us what they're really like?" Jemma asked, tucking a lock of hair behind her ear. "Have you seen Mr. Stark's lab? Talked to Dr. Banner at all about his work?"

"Oh really, Jemma, you think she's allowed to tell you anything good?" Fitz scoffed and started tinkering with the pile of electronics in front of him again.

Quinn perched on the back of another seat. "I've seen several of Mr. Stark's labs. They're all very spectacular. And unfortunately, I haven't had much opportunity to talk to Dr. Banner, and I know he's done amazing work, but I don't think I'd be able to understand much of what he told me if we did get to talk about it. I did start as just a field agent." She grinned. "Well, what else do you want to know?" she asked, pleased at the startled looks she got in response; beside her, Coulson chuckled.

The questions came rapid-fire.

"Are Thor's arms really that big?"

"Do you know Black Widow?"

"Have you seen the Hulk?"

"Did Mr. Stark make your leg brace?"

"Does Hawkeye ever miss?"

"Can Thor really fly?"

"Have you met Captain America?"

Coulson kept laughing to himself, and Quinn just kept grinning as they spoke. Then, she gave her answers as quickly as she could. "His arms are bigger than you think. Yes, I know Black Widow—we're friends. I have seen the Hulk, but not up-close, which I'm okay with. Tony did make my leg brace. Hawkeye never misses unless he means to. Thor can really fly and it's really cool. And I have met Captain America." She couldn't keep her smile from shifting at the mention of Steve.

"Were you on the ground in New York?" a newcomer asked.

Quinn followed the voice to a semi-secluded doorway she hadn't seen before. She got to her feet upon realizing who had spoken: it was Agent Melinda May. She was one of the most famous SHIELD agents still active, and she had been Coulson's partner before everything with the Avengers had started. She was a legend. An inspiration. "No, I wasn't," Quinn answered once she was on her feet. "I was on the helicarrier."

"You were there when Phil was stabbed?"

An unexpected wave of grief shot through Quinn as the events of that day played through her mind; she'd thought about them, relived them, a lot so she could see them clearly. It hurt no less, even with Coulson standing beside her, alive and well, as far as she could tell. "Yes," she breathed. "I was there. I was there when he died."

A tense silence had taken over the lounge. May walked across the space to stand in front of Quinn and Coulson, her eyes searching, appraising. Quinn caught the extra intensity with which she watched Coulson—was she watching for something? Waiting? Did she think there was something wrong with Coulson? But then May was looking at Quinn and she felt scrutinized herself; May had a way of making Quinn feel like she wasn't good enough at anything. But Quinn met May's gaze and didn't look away.

"Are you coming with us too?" she asked. Quinn got the impression she'd wanted to ask something else.

"No. I just came to see Coulson. Because. Well." Quinn shrugged. "I'm glad you're here to keep him safe, Agent May," she said honestly.

May just nodded, once, barely visible. "Wheels up in fifteen minutes," she said to everyone, before turning and heading back the way she came.

Quinn knew a cue when she heard one, and she had to fight to suppress her disappointment that her time with Coulson was almost over. "Well, I should get out of here. Very important Avengers work to do. It was nice to meet you guys," she said to Jemma, Leo, and Skye.

Coulson followed Quinn out of the plane and across the tarmac until they were out of the hangar. Steve was standing outside the helicopter now, waiting, his hands in his pockets, looking completely at ease. Not for the first time, Quinn wondered if someone would recognize Steve as Captain America, dressed in modern clothes and looking so casual. He was even slouching a little.

"Nice to see some things haven't changed," Coulson said.

Quinn could feel his eyes boring into the side of her head, but she didn't look away from Steve. "Things have changed," she said quietly.

"I know, Kid."

They walked across the tarmac together. Steve stepped forward and offered his hand, which Coulson readily shook. "However it happened, I'm glad to see you again, Agent Coulson," Steve said.

"Glad to see you too, Captain. Thanks for coming with Quinn."

"It was no problem."

Quinn caught the glint in Coulson's eyes—the same as the first time he'd implied there was something more than friendship between Quinn and Steve—and rolled her own. Coulson looked at her and laughed. After a moment, Quinn said, "Thanks for calling me, Boss." Tears pushed at the backs of her eyes suddenly at the thought of leaving, of not knowing when she was going to see Coulson again. "I'm… I'm glad you're alive. I'm still baffled. It's surreal."

"You're telling me."

"You'll let me know if you find out anything else about how you came back?"

"Of course. You'll let me know if anything happens—"

That mischievous light in his eyes told her exactly what he was going to ask, so she attempted to cut it off before he could embarrass Steve. Or her. "Boss—"

"I know, I know." Coulson waved her off. "This is serious." He pulled her into another hug, both of them aware how short time was growing. "I'm just a phone call away now, Kid. Don't forget that."

"I won't," Quinn said, pressing her face into Coulson's shoulder and fighting down the tears that so wanted to fall. She'd missed his hugs, and the feeling of family that came with them. "Call me if you get stuck, and I'll see what I can swing. I've got connections now."

Coulson's eyes drifted to Steve, a smile Quinn never thought she'd see again taking over his face. "Damn straight you do." As the plane's engines started up in preparation for taxiing to the runway, Coulson looked sadly over his shoulder; he didn't want this time to end anymore than Quinn did. "Take care of her," he said to Steve.

"Boss—"

"I will," Steve said over Quinn.

Quinn felt her cheeks turning red.

"And you, don't let him stay in DC too long."

The grin Coulson gave her warmed Quinn to her core; he turned the same grin on Steve, whose cheeks also flushed a bit, but who still returned the smile. He was teasing her. And Steve. A few tears did slip down Quinn's cheeks then. She wanted to hug Coulson again, but the plane was ready. He had to go; she knew that before he said anything, just based on his expression and body language. She had to go too, so the helicopter could get out of the way of the plane. Before it became impossible to leave, Quinn placed a kiss on Coulson's cheek, and then stepped away, towards the helicopter and Steve, and Coulson jogged back towards his new command.

"See you later, Boss!" she yelled.

He waved over his shoulder at her.

As Steve helped her climb into the helicopter, Quinn tried not to think about the fact that she was leaving Coulson, that he might get hurt or die and she wouldn't be there. That she wouldn't be able to protect Coulson. She wouldn't be at his side all the time. That they wouldn't be working together, despite both being alive and well.

Things really were changing.

September 13th, 2013
New York City, New York—Avengers Tower, 75th floor

For the entire helicopter ride back to New York, Steve held Quinn's hand, his thumb drawing small circles across the back of her hand as she stared out the window and cried. Steve had to field a call from Maria Hill, making the both of them promise they would keep Coulson's resurrection to themselves. He also had to keep the phone from Quinn, who wanted to scream at Hill for keeping something so important from her. She'd cried harder after Hill hung up, her emotions getting the better of her because she'd stopped fighting to keep them back.

It was after midnight when they finally touched down at Avengers Tower and Quinn found she was totally drained.

Of course, she thought as her and Steve headed inside. Steve's only here until tonight and all I want to do is lay down and sleep for three days. Tears welled at the thought—Quinn definitely needed to sleep.

Thankfully, Steve seemed to agree. They headed down to her rooms without discussion, where Quinn took her brace off, changed into her pyjamas, and got ready for bed immediately, eager to climb under her blankets. When she passed the guest bedroom however, she stopped and leaned on the door jamb to watch Steve remove the slew of pillows Tony's decorators had stacked on the bed. He stopped once he realized she was there and gave her a tentative smile.

"Do you think…" Quinn started, but her voice trailed off. She wanted to ask him to stay with her, at least until she fell asleep, like he had when she was mourning Coulson and when she was sick, but she didn't know how. Not any more. But she knew she didn't want to be alone. Her mind kept going over Coulson's resurrection, wondering how it was possible, what Fury had done, what was being kept from her, from the world. What else was SHIELD working on? If she went to bed alone, she'd never actually get to sleep. "Could you… Would you mind…"

Steve gave her a less tentative smile. "I don't mind." He crossed the room and turned off the light. "Come on. You're about to fall asleep standing up."

"I am." In Quinn's room, she burrowed under the covers until she was warm. Steve laid down next to her on top of the blankets, as he always had when he'd stayed with her. Her eyelids grew instantly heavy, but she grabbed the front of Steve's shirt anyway and tugged. "Stay the whole night, Cap," she said, her words coming out a bit mumbly.

"Are you okay, Quinn?" he asked, after he'd climbed under the covers and Quinn had tucked herself against his chest.

"I don't know." She forced her eyes open and shifted so she could look Steve in the eye. "I can't believe he's back, but… Something is bothering me about how. It shouldn't be possible, but he was there and he was the same. So who am I to question this chance? It's a chance pretty much everyone wishes for…" she added quietly. She placed a hand on his cheek. The light from outside was reflected in his eyes, but Quinn could still see the grief and longing there.

"You're allowed to feel conflicted, Quinn."

"I know… What would you do? If it was Bucky?" she asked, voice barely above a whisper.

Steve turned his face into her hand, his eyes closing briefly as he thought over his response. Quinn felt the muscles in his jaw bunch as he clenched his teeth. "I don't know. Probably spend a lot of time wondering how as well. You could never be prepared for this situation."

"No, I supposed you couldn't… I certainly wasn't." Quinn sighed, her eyes closing again as she drew her hand back to her chest. She kind of felt like she wanted to cry, but the urge was losing to sleep. "It feels wrong to not be working with him. For him to be… somewhere else, working with another team. But I guess it wouldn't have felt the same regardless."

"Now that I have Strike Team Delta?"

Quinn nodded. "I mean, I don't hate change necessarily, but this, on top of everything else…" She trailed off, gesturing across the small space between them. "It's a lot." She yawned. "I'm sorry we didn't get to spend yesterday like we planned."

"Don't apologize. We got to see each other."

She smiled and lifted her head, her eyes half open. "Yeah. I'm glad we got to spend more than a few minutes together. I miss our Friday nights. I miss you."

Steve tilted her head down, his nose brushing hers. "I miss you too. My neighbour across the hall is not anywhere near as friendly or fun."

"I hope not," Quinn said with a sleepy smirk. "I don't want you to go back to DC."

"Because Coulson left?"

"Yes. And because I don't want you to go."

Steve leaned closer. "I don't want to go either."

"But you have to."

"But I have to."

Quinn kissed Steve lightly. "Thank you for coming with me, Steve. It would have been a lot harder if you weren't there to have my back."

"I've always got your back, Quinn. Now go to sleep. You can't keep your eyes open."

She wanted to protest. She wanted to keep her eyes open. She wanted to keep talking to Steve, keep kissing him, but she gave in to the pull of the warmth, to the security of Steve's arms. Her mind was calm and it took almost no time for her to fall asleep against Steve's chest. She dreamed of the day Coulson told her she would be a SHIELD agent.