For Tony | Post MCU Civil War
His arm still felt wrong without the weight of the shield during the rush into battle. It had been such a fixture of his anatomy for so long, really the only thing left that was still the same from before he went down into the ice. So maybe it was better to shed it- shed the whole identity. He wasn't Captain America any more, he was something else. A nomad.
And it wasn't as though he was defenceless without the shield. His fists connected with a smooth arch, ad the target went flying back, three more moving in to take his place. Steve flipped back, but before he could deliver another blow all three were blown back by a repulsor blast.
Steve froze for a moment, starring at the place they had been before slowly turning his head to acknowledge where it had come from.
They had a second, maybe two, Steve eyeing that face plate with a steely look that was hard to read, but not nearly as hard as the metal one. And then the gunfire came, and spurred Steve back into motion, flipping and twisting to disarm one of the gun men. For the moment they had a common enemy. When it was done...well then they would see...