"Good line," she says, to herself, shaking her head, with a faint, wry huff that's not quite a laugh. "Damn. That's heroic."

But that's Rogers. He didn't learn to be this way; never put on an act to go with the build and height and rank the Army so miraculously handed him. He just was. He was always Cap -- that was the whole point of making him the subject of this experiment. Sincere, noble, loyal Steve Rogers, who'd fight through fallen rock or a full base's worth of enemy soldiers to reach a friend in trouble. "Okay!"

That's called out loud enough for him to hear, as she scrambles back along the half-collapsed corridor. "It's clear, Steve." She allows herself a quick smile. "See you in a minute. I'll be the one covered in dust."

It should at least occur to her that he won't be able to get through, to consider alternate scenarios, to tell him to go back and get reinforcements, but it doesn't. The thought comes, and she bats it away like it's a fly buzzing at her ear, derisive.

He's Steve Rogers. He stormed a HYDRA base all on his own. He led countless missions into the wilderness to cut off each of HYDRA's heads, on by one. He's an Avenger. Sharon knows his skill set inside and out, his strengths, his few weaknesses. She can determine the likelihood of his success with an unbiased eye.

There is no scenario in which a few rocks get in his way.