DISCLAIMER: Marvel stuff belongs to Marvel. This is fiction.

A/N: A rewrite of an old story once on here that I began writing back in 2012. If you're interested my face claim for Genevieve Renard is Alicia Vikander.

Titles are inspired by HIM songs.

When the time is ripe, true soul mates find one another even if they are worlds apart – Yehuda Berg

WORLDS APART: Part 1

CHAPTER ONE – The Foreboding Sense of Impending Happiness

[September 1943 – Italy]

Words evaded me. The barrenness in my mind drove against my patience as I longed to express the world surrounding me in a favorable light, vainly hoping it would save my mother from obvious worry. While the European scenery transformed often into a picture-perfect postcard, the brutal scenes of war didn't. Hemorrhaging wounds and dismembered body parts plagued me daily, and the haunting moans of approaching death echoed in my head when I attempted to grab a couple of hours of sleep.

Nevertheless, a blank page stared mockingly up at me, the odd drip of rain seeping upon the surface and determining the letter would remain unwritten.

Holding in a weary sigh, I grabbed a jacket as I left the nurses tent, hastily pulling it over the olive drab I'd been wearing for a month. Tramping through the trodden grass, mud splashed onto the dry stuff from the day before. Most of the nurses avoided doing an inventory, but with time on my hands I accepted the brain numbing duty.

We'd recently moved to a new site, several boxes of medical supplies sat behind a curtain to create a makeshift store room. With a glance at my watch, the hands seemingly moved at a snail's pace. There were worse places to be – I could've been digging new latrines.

"Genevieve! There you are." Bette burst into the tent, her rosy cheeks puffed like balloons as she skidded to a halt. "We received a telegram," my best friend lowered her voice to a whisper. "It's from Agent Carter."

"Probably our training schedule." I snatched the telegram to read the short two sentences.

"I don't know if I'm cut out for this, Genevieve."

I glanced up at the petite blonde, battle weary and a long way from the society life she was accustom too. In the harsh light of the cold morning I felt guilt for allowing her to volunteer alongside me when nurses were required at the front line.

"I know Agent Carter is your friend from some training exercise you never talk about, and you think going on some suicide mission will prove your worth…but I don't know if I'm cut out for this." She threw her hands up, dramatically sighing when she took to pacing before me. "I'm not a soldier or a spy! I should be attending galas and nightclub openings!"

"It's okay, Bette," I carefully tore up the telegram, placing the pieces in my pocket.

"Okay?"

"You came here because of me, I know that, and I love you for it." I drew her into a hug. "You can serve out your time here, and then return home to David. But I'm staying here until the job is done."

Her big blue eyes framed with enviable thick lashes studied me as we parted, loose blonde curls falling from their pinned hold. "Are you sure, Genevieve?"

"This is where I'm meant to be."

"You're braver than I am."

"It's not about being brave," I replied opening a box of mixed supplies. "I just want to do my part anyway I can."

"Well I think you're brave anyway. I gotta go, I stupidly agreed to help Doris mend some of the old blankets."

I smiled, "Good luck with that, you do know she can't sew, right?"

"Great," Bette groaned on her way out.

I couldn't stop myself from laughing, turning towards the shelves.

"There you are, Gin. You hiding back here?"

The male tone laced with an obvious New York accent and genuine happiness brought a smile to my lips.

"Unlike some, Sergeant Barnes, I have work to do."

The handsome soldier from the 107th had the confident smile of a man used to getting his way with women. He held out a couple of envelopes, unable to fight the charming smile that appeared to draw many to his friendship.

"I got some of your mail by accident."

"Oh really?"

"Yeah, I saw one was from some Louie guy, figured it was your boyfriend."

"He's my brother," I carefully tucked the envelopes into my pocket. "I'm sure I've mentioned he's serving with the Royal Airforce in England."

"Yeah, just checking." He smiled catching my arm and pulling me against his body.

"Barnes…"

His nose brushed against mine, banishing the warning lingering on my tongue. "You didn't mind the other night," his husky tone attempted to seduce me.

"Dugan's bourbon made me bold."

I blushed recalling the other night when Tim Dugan's last American bourbon bottle made its way around the group. I didn't care for the liquor but partook to unwind after a long day. Things with Barnes started innocently enough with a friendly chat, laughter and then flirty glances turned into hand holding, and a sneaky escape to the edge of camp to make out.

"You tellin' me that terrible bourbon made you kiss me?"

I wrapped my arms around his neck to stop him from pulling away. "Of course not, that's not what I meant…you know we're not meant to be fraternizing."

"Fraternizing? We ain't doing anything wrong."

"I'd like to hear you explain that to matron."

He silenced my doubts with a kiss, lifting my spirits and intensifying a feeling I couldn't recall ever experiencing before. We parted for a breath, his lips kissing my nose before he released me from his inviting grasp.

"I better let you get back to your duties. I'll see you at dinner."

His kiss lingered long after he moved away, departing the tent whistling a tune as I resumed my task with a newfound cheerfulness.

-x-

"You're getting rather good, Genevieve. I'm impressed at how far you've come in a short period."

I fought down a burst of pride longing to stretch my lips into a delighted grin. I glanced at Peggy Carter, an SSR agent I befriended during my time working on Project Rebirth while reloading the Walther PPK she'd given me. It almost felt like second nature to have the weapon in my grasp, a mere extension of the arm I could now use to take down anyone that stood in my way.

"It's all because of your teachings, Peg. If you hadn't vouched for me, I'd still be stateside twiddling my thumbs."

"I accept your flattery, even though I think you're a natural," she smiled. "But I've heard your charms have a certain Sergeant distracted from his duties."

Facing the holey targets Peggy erected, I curtly shook my head hoping to display an indifference to her remark. "I have no idea what you're talking about."

"It's a dangerous time to fall in love."

My shoulders tensed at her words, thinking of the way Bucky's smile weakened my knees, and the comfortable ease I felt when we conversed. I'd worked hard not to dwell on defining my relationship with Bucky, not willing to accept maybe the persuasive soldier was romantically interested in me.

"Who said anything about falling in love? He's a welcomed distraction." I faced my friend, dressed in an army green jumpsuit and black boots. Her brown hair, pretty face, and nails all impeccably styled, seemingly out of place in our current setting. She could've been a Hollywood starlet rather than a lethal agent.

"A distraction is only useful to a certain point. Can you so easily forget about him when the time comes to leave for the mission?"

"He doesn't cloud my judgement. I know what's expected of me. After all, I volunteered for this assignment."

It was bitter lie to be spoken aloud, and Peggy didn't even bother to act like she believed me. We both unwittingly pined for a life we fought so hard to pretend we didn't want. Our goal of making a difference in the world could potentially hurt our chances of true happiness with the men constantly in our thoughts.

"Well, I think that's enough for today, I'm sure you've got plenty of work waiting back at camp for you."

"No shortage I don't doubt," I muttered grabbing my jacket to carefully hide the gun in a pocket. "What does the Colonel think about these little side trips?"

"He's not convinced –"

"Because I'm a woman?"

"Because you're not a soldier." She spoke over her shoulder, plucking what was left of the targets off the tree trunks to hide beneath an overgrown bush. "I have no doubt you'll be up to the task, whatever it may be."

I merely forced a smile, attempting to find a shred of hope in her words.

"Until next week, be careful, Genevieve."

Despite knowing she meant that in one obvious way, I curtly nodded. "You too, Peg."