Nothing good ever happened on the news. Not to say that news networks didn't make up an effort to add 'fluff' stories to break up the misery – watch little Miffy respond to wand spells from her owner! – but the tragedy just kept coming hour after hour, day after day.

Ebola outbreak in Sierra Leone

Malaysia Airlines Flight 370 Lost

Russia Violates Ukrainian Sovereignty

Alice tried to avoid the news. She could almost miss the days – her Cuckoo days invading the past – when the news was heavily filtered through a heavy film of patriotism.

But times had changed, it seemed.

Captain America fugitive from SHIELD

Unsure of how else to occupy her energies, Alice stayed glued to the television and tried to absorb the entire light spectrum through her eyes. Alice whittled down her nails with her teeth until her beds bled, healed, and resumed chewing.

Captain America Suspected of Treason

Sam flew through the air on a winged jet-pack, zipping past a news helicopter at incredible speeds. The news helicopter circled overhead as Steve knelt on the ground, hands over his head. A flash of red from the Widow, all hauled into heavy armored vans at gunpoint.

Captain America in Custody

But most important – the most of the most – was a flash of a man in black with ratty brown hair and a metal arm. A glimpse of a face that called to her soul. She'd seen him grapple with Steve. She'd seen a hesitation before an explosion.

Alice had to find the newscast online so that she could pause, rewind, and replay the two seconds of footage. His frame had filled out with additional muscle, and his strut could hardly be called casual anymore, but there were other signs.

Steve stopped, straightened, and stared. It was just a second, but it was enough. It's true, Alice thought as she played the two second snipped for the twentieth time, he's alive. The footage coming from the helicopter shook and trembled, and Alice couldn't read the expression on his face, but she knew, he's alive.

The armored vans pulled away and the copters moved on and the news seemed to forget for a moment that something terrible had happened in the District. The news couldn't fathom why Captain America was wanted by SHIELD, but the agency could do no wrong so the attention of the news started to wander.

It didn't last long.

The news blew up again, blaring with warning cries and Breaking News: SHIELD Under Attack? Alice gasped in horror as explosions filled the screen and the three carriers fired upon each other. They drifted dangerously down through the sky, eventually crashing into the Triskelion and into the Potomac River. The news couldn't keep up with the action. Another Incident?, one asked. America Under Attack!, the other declared.

Alice had her choice of news outlets – every screen everywhere flashed with replays of explosions and gunfire and machines falling from the sky. She had her choice of screaming heads, and dissent, and anger; it all fed into her need for information; a desperation to know what had happened to her friends. No one seemed to have any answers, only outrage and fear, and confusion.

Confusion ran rampant, slapping red into people's faces and tightening men's ties until their heads swelled with rage. It smudged the liner around women's eyes, revealing whatever concealed fear they'd dabbed away in a bathroom mirror.

It took until the smoldering wreckage stopped threatening the greater DC area for Alice's phone to ring with the news.

"Alice," Sam barked the instant she answered.

Alice's heart sang. "Are you alright? I've been watching the news, and-"

He cut her off. "Can you come to GW Hospital?"

"… Sam?" It was his no-nonsense voice.

"Room 231." He hung up.

Alice could do without repeating the drive into DC. Roadblocks sprung up at almost every turn and she had to double back, cut through neighborhoods, and try a different attack. The news blared on the radio, spitting Treason, Terrorists, Toppled.

Alice broke the power button on her radio in her fury, leaving the damnable contraption stuck on. She missed a few more turns as her blood pressure rose – from stress, from fear, from anger. She was grateful as she parked in the hospital's garage and jogged through the entry doors, only to find every screen tuned to the news.

The news in the hospital room played like a broken record. Fallen Heli-carriers, fallen agencies, fallen heroes. Alice couldn't look at the footage and Sam couldn't look away. It didn't help the tension in the room, and whatever bitterness he'd felt over her sudden reveal as a time-traveler hadn't aged well over the previous 24 hours. To be fair, quite a lot had happened.

"Why didn't you tell me?" Sam sounded hurt, finally speaking over the television.

Alice didn't pretend she didn't know what he was asking."What was I supposed to say, Sam?"

He grunted, sinking lower in the uncomfortable hospital chair. "I don't know; something."

"Sam," Alice started gently. "I don't think there's any good way to tell your friend you've traveled through time. If you have suggestions, I'm open to hearing them."

Sam sat up in his chair, raising an eyebrow. "Okay, Lieutenant."

"First Lieutenant," Alice corrected.

"You traveled back in time to 1944."

"1943."

"And you were a nurse – with Captain America?"

"I started out at a Field Hospital, and was recruited by the Commandos after… I was captured with an Infantry unit and held prisoner in a HYDRA work camp."

"And you died."

"They thought I died. I just came back to 2010." Alice stared at Steve's face, beat all to hell but somehow still serene. "I didn't mean to leave. I meant to stay… I just didn't get the chance."

"Why'd you go? Why do it Just… why?" Sam's tone had softened as they strayed deeper into sensitive territory, but his last question retained some of the initial bitterness.

Alice paused. There was a multitude of reasons she'd accepted the mission, and barely any of them made sense without making her sound crazy, naïve, or power-hungry.

"I went to save his life." Alice nodded to Steve's sleeping form.

The news barked loudly through the room as dissent and disagreement grew now that the processing had begun.

Unbelievable, they cried.

Freedoms, they cried.

Justice, they cried.


Alice laughed as she poured the cocoa into two pristine white porcelain mugs, little slivers slipping down the sides as all good cocoa should. "I'm telling you, Steve, the 1990s were a lawless time to grow up."

He raised an eyebrow as he accepted his mug. "Was there still Polio?"

Alice cranked the handle on her window to slide it shut to keep out the stiff autumn breeze before joining Steve at the gaming table in her office. "Not so much – but we did have moon shoes, and that could cause basically the same problems."

Sundays were Steve Days for Alice. Being closed, she could enjoy the company of her oldest friend – a pun she made quite often – without the discomfort of fame or the lies of time.

"I shouldn't be surprised you're doing as well as you are," Alice commented, grabbing their favorite pack of cards from the heavily game-laden bookshelf.

"Modern medicine's pretty great."

"I'd argue vintage is better, in your case." Alice tossed the packaged cards from one hand to another, thinking through the motion. She set it down on the table, leaving her hand on it for a moment and sat down across from Steve, drawing her mug of cocoa close.

"You got something you want to say?" He asked, slightly surprised by the abrupt change in the mood of the room.

"I missed all of you so much." Alice stirred the cocoa idly but it drew all of her attention. "After I was brought back… I had a really hard time."

"Alice," Steve set a hand on hers. "We all sacrificed."

"That's the thing," Alice laughed bitterly, "I think I'm the reason you had to."

"Sam says you went to 1943 to save my life," Steve tested the waters, "but that you wouldn't say much more about it."

"Not much more to say about it." Alice tapped her spoon too hard on the side of her mug. "I…" her face twisted painfully as she tried and failed to hide her grief. "I didn't know what would happen. Not… not all of it. I promised you answers, and I think I'm ready to give them to you."

Steve sat up a little straighter in his seat.

"I was twelve when I found out I was a mutant. Not an 'enhanced', like some; I was born with my powers. I didn't have some fantastic coming-out like lots of mutants; I just happened to fail a mandatory blood test. I'll get to why this is important in a second, just…" Alice tapped her thumbnail against her mug. "Just let me get this out."

"My parents saw on the news what was happening to people like me, so when I was seventeen they made me come to New York from California. I never quite fit in there; an older girl didn't like me, and we really got into it one day. She… lost control of her powers, and she broke my arm. I healed pretty fast – that's my gift, you see – but the school wanted me to apologize to her. That's how it works these days; if you have strong powers, you have value." Alice's eyes flicked to the window. "My powers are not of value."

Alice's mug had long ago emptied but she still stared into it like the porcelain still held answers. "I refused, and the others genuinely couldn't understand why. It got… maybe I was just sensitive, but I couldn't stand being on the outside. I left the school and got a job as a farm hand on my own. That was maybe… eight or ten years before I got a knock on my door."

"I was asked to go back in time; to preserve the timeline and prevent some terrible catastrophe that followed your death. I was told that – if you died – that…" Alice trailed off, standing with a screech of the chair as her nervous energy got the better of her. She also couldn't be so close to Steve's face when she told him the truth. "I know things I'm not supposed to know. One of the things I was told is that Bucky would become the Winter Soldier."

Alice rubbed her arms in a self-comforting motion. "I was a naïve idiot to accept, but everyone knew that. I believed, for once, that I could be special; that I could have value. I…" Alice looked up at the ceiling as she fought back tears, blinking rapidly. "I deserve your hate if you hate me."

Steve clasped his hands together on the table, his gaze directed down at the table. "I think," he started, his jaw still too tense for words to come out properly, "I never once saw you leave a man down."

Steve rubbed his thumbs together, and it seemed to help ease a little of his tension. "You're right that it was hard to trust you; that something just felt off… but you never gave me any reason to believe you weren't completely dedicated to the wellbeing of the Commandos."

Alice held her breath, just waiting for the other shoe to drop. There had to be some lingering condition, some hidden resentment… Alice hated herself enough for it to be perfectly reasonable that Steve would hate her too.

Steve reached for the cards across the table and began to shuffle the deck. "If you're trying to get out of losing every week, you'll need a better excuse than that."

Alice balked. "Steve, I-"

"Sit down and lose with some dignity, Lieutenant." Steve started dealing the cards. "That's an order." The cards slid easily across the table. "Turn the news off while you're at it."

Alice lifted the remote to turn off the TV as the newscaster frowned contemplatively, steepling long fingers.

Complexity, he reasoned.

Understanding, he paused.

Recovery, he offered.


Alice listened with half an ear to Natasha's testimony playing in the background as she brushed down the horses. She'd kept up enough with the news to know when to turn her attention back to the modern world, but for the most part ,she'd heeded Steve's advice and just left well enough alone.

Yes, the world is a vulnerable place, and yes, we helped make it that way. But we're also the ones best qualified to defend it. So if you want to arrest me, arrest me. You'll know where to find me.

"Damn, honey," Alice approved under her breath. It was quite the mic drop.

"Alice," a warm voice called from outside the stall.

Her head turned at the sound but so did the head of large horse Alice was grooming, blocking her view. "Move, you great galoot," she chastised, patting the horse's neck. She ducked under and around, avoiding a snap of biting teeth at the motion and sliding the door shut. That particular mare didn't enjoy having her spa-time interrupted.

"Steve!" Alice exclaimed joyfully, brushing her hands off on her jeans and opening her arms for a quick hug. "I haven't seen you around for a minute – how are you?" Steve returned the hug with about half of Alice's enthusiasm, which flicked on a warning light in her head. She gripped his shoulders as she pulled back from the hug, staring him dead in the eyes. "What's wrong?"

Steve didn't beat around the bush. "I'm going after him."

Alice let go of his shoulders as a little of her strength drained away in a flash. "…oh?"

Steve reached into his back pocket. "Natasha called in a few favors to get me some intel, but…" he withdrew a somewhat wrinkled and poorly-treated photograph. "I figured… you don't have anything."

He held out the little square and Alice's hands trembled in accepting it. It was Bucky, of course; his face was exactly as she remembered him from 1944. He looked like he hadn't quite been expecting the photograph at the moment it was taken, and it left his features slightly soft. The slightly askew tilt of his hat betrayed a sometimes juvenile defiance that Alice dearly missed.

"Thank you," she whispered. "Means… the world to me."

"I'd ask you to come with us, but," Steve trailed off, fluffing the hair on the back of his head as he searched for the right words.

Alice grimaced resolutely. "I sort of planted myself here."

Steve chuckled. "Alice Shaw turned into a plant at last; I'm not surprised."

"Sigynsdottir," she corrected.

He grinned. "I always thought it'd end up being Barnes." Steve realized he'd accidentally tread on sensitive territory and his expression turned apologetic; it was too soon for the joke, even if it wasn't really a joke.

Alice choked a little on a laugh that was too forced. "Do you think he remembers us?"

"I know he does." Steve sounded certain, tucking his hands into his pockets. "He pulled me from the river; that has to mean something." Steve averted his eyes politely as Alice wiped away a tear that slipped out of her realm of control. "Did you ever get to the exhibit?"

"Briefly," Alice replied. "It was… hard." Agonizing is what it was. That was before she'd met up with Steve again, before she'd been good friends with Sam – even though he was sort of avoiding her at the moment.

Steve nodded in agreement. "It was strange to see everyone – especially you."

Alice blinked. "I'm in the exhibit?"

"They had some nice things to say." Steve started walking towards the barn door and Alice followed. "I'm pretty sure whoever put it together figured out that you and Buck were an item."

"Is that so?" Alice stopped in the doorway as Steve stepped into the sun. "Maybe I'll give it another try."

"You should," Steve agreed.

Alice rapped her knuckles on the side of the barn. "Hey, good luck. Finding him, I mean."

Steve squinted a little against the bright sun creeping towards late afternoon. He nodded, bobbing his head in a reserved motion that always made Alice think it must be a holdover from the days when he wasn't a superhero. "What I said before still stands – you stay away from ships until I bring him back. Can't have a repeat of last time."

"I promise." Alice crossed an 'x' over her chest.

She watched as Steve climbed into his almost-too-small car and pulled out of her driveway. She waved as he passed by, and he waved out the window. A cloud of dust followed him down her driveway, catching the light and twisting it into waves.

Alice walked back into the barn, and switched the radio from the news to music.


A/N: feeEEEEEEEEEeeeelings!

Jiminy Cricket the length of these chapters is getting out of control.

This was kind of a weird chapter in my outline; a 'passage-of-time' filler that became its own creature (as they always do). This is literally the outline for this chapter:

9. The News
...a. Alice watching everything go down on the news
...b. Steve's recovery in hospital
...i. Nat and congressional hearing

THAT. IS. IT.

I basically know the major points that need to be touched on, and the title of the chapter gives me the feeling I need to follow, but the rest of it is pure bullshitting. Granted, some of the other chapters have much, much more guidance, but this was not one of them.

This ended up being a lot about Alice's self-loathing reflected in how the country must have viewed Steve and the Avengers post- SHIELD, and her admitting that she feels selfish for choosing to go back is… interesting. It came at me out of nowhere, and I'm the freakin' author.

Keep an eye out and hold on to your tits tomorrow for the last chapter of Act 1: Sentimental(e). (which I totally haven't finished writing yet...)

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