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The shield was always a thing of her Dad's. On Battleworld, there was no America, none of what it symbolized ever meant much, or seemed to, for anyone but him. But he taught her to salute the damn flag, and sing the anthem as loud as she damn well pleased and be proud to be an American, somehow or other.
Across from Mjolnir, somehow that shield doesn't seem so heavy anymore, like its something alive. It almost jumps before every return blow, and though the Hulk's blows shake her injured ribs and shoulder, it keeps moving, she just knows it will defend her, that it damned well means something.

And the amp stack plays of its own accord.

"Well a hush fell over the band room
Jim come crashin' in off the street
And when the cuttin' were done
The only part that wasn't bloody
Was the soles of the big man's feet
Yeah he were cut in in bout a hundred places
And he were shot in a couple more
And you better believe
They sung a different kind of story
When big Jim hit the floor now they say

You don't tug on Superman's cape
You don't spit into the wind
You don't pull the mask off that old Lone Ranger
And you don't mess around with Slim."

A whirlwind surrounds the pair, hammering the Hulk from all directions, lightning flashing out from the core, and radiating into the behemoth as she swings with the precision only a Rogers can call their own and a will she never knew she had.

And somehow she can hear it through the stacks.

"Yeah you don't tug on Superman's cape
You don't spit into the wind
You don't pull the mask off the old Lone Ranger
And you don't mess around with Slim."

The maelstrom dies down with the new flurry, the song fading as she stares down the Hulk, daring him to do anything but fall.

"I'll see you on the dark side of the moon."