[ True to his word, Steve heads her way after a slight detour to grab the shield (and pants) from the house. Esta es mi casa. It's not home, but he doesn't think he'll ever really have that again, not tied to one place. He hasn't tried to find it here. What he has — what he's tried to grasp and hold onto since the ice — are Bucky, Natasha, Sam. His friends, a reason to keep fighting. And if that helps him remember something he's otherwise lost for good, well, who would blame him? He certainly won't blame her.
It's not as soon as he would've liked, though, and at least in the few seconds it takes to run up the walkway and take the stairs leading to the porch in one stride to knock on the door, everything seems quiet. He knows that doesn't mean much with these guys. They're fast and stealthy and could easily be on him in the next moment. ]
Laura, it's Mr. Rogers! I'm comin' in.
[ Fair warning before he lifts the shield still strapped to his forearm and jams it against the lock to break it. Before his arm is even back to his side he knows he had it right, the tiny hairs prickling along the back of his neck, and he looks over his shoulder even as he pushes through the door bodily. He does it just in time to kick it back in the face of the creature, splintering the wood against its body and ripping the top hinges from the frame. Just as quickly, Steve opens it again and slams the edge of the shield into its throat. It doesn't go down from the single blow, but it staggers and tries to scream through its broken windpipe as Steve backs up, ready to throw this time. ]
none of the above?? lmk if this is okay
It's not as soon as he would've liked, though, and at least in the few seconds it takes to run up the walkway and take the stairs leading to the porch in one stride to knock on the door, everything seems quiet. He knows that doesn't mean much with these guys. They're fast and stealthy and could easily be on him in the next moment. ]
Laura, it's Mr. Rogers! I'm comin' in.
[ Fair warning before he lifts the shield still strapped to his forearm and jams it against the lock to break it. Before his arm is even back to his side he knows he had it right, the tiny hairs prickling along the back of his neck, and he looks over his shoulder even as he pushes through the door bodily. He does it just in time to kick it back in the face of the creature, splintering the wood against its body and ripping the top hinges from the frame. Just as quickly, Steve opens it again and slams the edge of the shield into its throat. It doesn't go down from the single blow, but it staggers and tries to scream through its broken windpipe as Steve backs up, ready to throw this time. ]