She arrives at his house minutes after he nervously hangs up his phone. "Carol?" Sam blanches when she pushes past him and barges into the hallway. Carol turns and frowns, self-consciously tugging at the hem of her flight jacket.

"Hey, Sammy," she greets. "Is this a bad time? I mean, you seemed kind of out of it when I…" She trails off at the sight of two strangers in the living room, watching her warily. One of them, she recognizes as the man who spoke to Sam after their PTSD meeting two days ago. "Oh. You've got company."

"Sammy?" The woman raises a red brow, a smirk tugging at the corner of her lips.

Sam turns to snap at her, but Carol swiftly reaches out and tugs him back, her nails digging into the sensitive flesh of his wrist as her other hand trains a pistol on the red-haired assassin.

"Woah!" The blonde man—the one she recognizes from the meeting—leaps to his feet just as his companion pulls out her own firearm.

"Colonel," she greets, eerily calm. Carol grits her teeth at her former title, hand tightening on the pistol.

"It's captain, now," she replies stonily. "I've been recently demoted. And you? Heard them calling you Natasha Romanoff on the news during the Manhattan fiasco. Last I remember, your name was Natalia Shostakova."

Natasha allows herself a sneer at the name before her blonde friend steps between them.

"Woah, woah. Let's all just stay calm—"

"Holy shit," Carol drops her gun unceremoniously, gaping at him with recognition flashing in her eyes. "You're Captain America! Sammy, Steve Rogers is in your goddamn living room."

"Eh, yeah. Carol, before you go crazy can you let go of my wrist. The whole 'super strength' thing's making me lose feeling in my left arm."

"Oh!" She frowns, drops his hand as if she was the one in pain. "Sorry, buddy. You didn't tell me you knew Captain America!"

"Relax, girl," he pats her head and smiles despite the throbbing in his wrist. "I only met him Friday."

"Still—"

"Listen, ma'am, we don't really have time for—"

"Right, right. Super sorry," Carol ducks her head, and Sam gapes when he sees that she's actually blushing. "It's just—Gramps was always talking about you, and… Sorry, um, I'm sort of at a loss. Sammy, mind explaining?"

"Actually, Carol—"

"Explain away, Sammy," Natasha cuts off. "We could use somebody with Danvers' skillset."

Carol pauses, narrows her eyes suspiciously. "I don't work for SHIELD," she says.

"Good," Steve replies easily. "Neither do we."