CHAPTER TEN – One Last Time

[January 1945]

"Gin."

I lowered the pen, a board smile stretching my lips to see Steve. He wasn't in his Captain America uniform, but in full military dress. Something wasn't quite right, my smile faded to notice the red, puffy skin around his bloodshot blue eyes. He nervously ran a hand back through his neatly combed blonde hair, clearing his throat.

"Steve…" I trailed off, rising from the chair. He couldn't bring himself to look me in the eye. "What's happened?"

"Buck…" he lightly shook his head, the emotion choking him and stealing the words I didn't necessarily need to hear. The misery finally broke through his fragile control, and I started shaking my head.

"No," I whispered, hot tears forming. "Please, no…not Bucky. Steve…no!"

"I couldn't save him," Steve mumbled numbly. "I tried, but I couldn't save him."

I braced a trembling hand against the table, a chill spreading through my body and it had nothing to do with the winter weather. Misery clung to me, soaking into every pore to claim me as its own. After everything we'd been through, and how hard we'd fought to stay together, it seemed cruel to have the love of my life ripped from me.

My throat swelled, wanting to release a scream, alert the world to my agony, but it only came out as a strangled sob. Steve came to my side, wrapping his arms around me, even though I fought, knocking hard fists into his board chest. Every blow felt like a moment I'd lost with Bucky, the seconds I should've held him longer, kissed him, whispered all my hopes and dreams for our life together. It was all gone.

"You should've saved him! You should've…" Overwhelmed with the aching sorrow and blinded by tears I collapsed into Steve.

He offered no words, unable to cope with his own grief. He simply held me tightly against him as we crumbled to the floor in shared mourning.

-x-

Tuffs of paper flew up as bullets ripped effortlessly through several targets, spent blank shells ejecting in a clattering of steel rain. Footsteps approached behind me as I reloaded a selection of guns on the table before me.

"Would you consider coming to work for me?"

I glanced sideways as Howard Stark appeared beside me, a charming smirk plastered upon his good-looking features, and dressed in an expensive suit which almost appeared out of place within the convinces of the army bunker. "I don't want to be your secretary, Howard," I replied flatly.

"I was thinking you could be my personal bodyguard," he grinned wickedly, and I couldn't help but laugh, the tension in my shoulders relaxing with his effortless icebreaker. "You'd be perfect, Gin, no one would ever suspect you until it was too late."

"I appreciate the offer, maybe I'll consider it after the war's over." I reached for a Bowie knife, the dome light overhead catching the sharp edge. A dozen bloody images breezed through my mind – slicing the blade through flesh, screams of pain: all of which seemed a satisfying thought if I were to come up against a HYDRA soldier.

"You weren't at the debriefing this morning," Howard commented.

"I'm in no mood for politics or planning operations, all I need to know is where Schmidt is, and can I get close enough to put a bullet in his head."

"Sorry, kid, you're a flight risk."

With violent force, the bowie knife ended up deeply rooted in the table. "What do you mean by flight risk?"

Howard's concerned had him leaning away from me, struggling to look me in the eye with the knife set between us. "You've been through the ringer lately, there's no saying what you'll do when you get your hands on someone HYDRA related."

"Did Steve put you up to this?"

"He's worried about you, kid, we all are." He sounded genuinely concerned, no hint of sarcasm or amused laced his tone.

I swallowed the vile words lingering on my tongue, violent urges created within my haze of grief had me grabbing Howard by his shirt, a surprised yelp leaving his lips as his feet left the floor. "Listen here, Stark, you are going to tell Steve, and anyone else who asks that I am just fine. I will handle myself in the field, and I will damn well take down as many HYDRA soldiers that see fit to get in my way. Do I make myself clear?"

Howard rapidly nodded and I dropped him back to his feet. He awkwardly ran a hand back through his hair, flashing a feeble smile. "How about we have dinner tonight?"

I sighed, "Howard., no"

"Too soon?"

"It will never happen."

"Well, the job offer still stands if you want it. I'll go and find Rogers, tell him he owes me a new suit."

I turned back to the firing range with a small smile. I admired his bravery and concern he and Steve shared. It was obvious to anyone who looked at me the raw wound in my heart demanded revenge. HYDRA robbed everything I held dear, now revenge was the only thing left and I reveled in its white-hot fury.

[March 1945 – Swiss Alps]

Lingering with Peggy on the edge of the dense forest, an eerie sense of an anticipation loitered whilst we loaded and rechecked our weapons. She favored a rifle whereas I preferred two small handguns, and Howard's improved Bowie knife, sitting snug in a sheath attached to my ankle. I'd learnt rather quickly I enjoyed handling a blade over firing a gun – it also caused the guilt to rise, because the more I trained, the rapidly I learnt I knew far more than what the senior SSR agents were teaching me.

I gently positioned a couple of grenades in my utility belt, not feeling any nerves about the approaching battle. I'd been to this dance before, and knew the steps by heart, except this time I vowed not to be taken alive if captured. I wouldn't let Bucky's death be in vain. I owed him that much.

"Gin?"

Glancing up from securing my belt, Steve marched towards me, fully kitted out in his Captain America uniform. The sight roused the soldiers around us, stirring the courage within them. I could only smile at the memory of our first meeting in a secret base in Brooklyn. It seemed such a long time ago, a different life where our childhood illusions led us to a place to be changed forever.

"Steve, do you want to go over the plan again?"

"No," he kindly took my elbow and led me to a quiet space out of earshot from the crowd. He pulled off his helmet, but his blue eyes struggled to look at me. "I know I suggested you should come along, but maybe you should hang back," he stated quietly.

"If you're worried about my mental state, don't be. I'm more focused than I've ever been, and nothing is going to stop me from putting a bullet in Schmidt's head."

"Leave Schmidt to me, I need you to stop his soldiers from taking out our men."

"That's not fair, Steve!"

"Bucky would agree with me."

Fists clenched in fury, I fought the urge to punch his perfect teeth from his mouth.

"Don't blame yourself for what happened."

"Openly at least, keep it inside like you do." His jaw clenched stubbornly. "You don't think I know you blame yourself for his death? He chose to go with you because you were his friend, he trusted you and I don't think he would regret his choice, not for one damn second."

"So, we agree to disagree, then?"

"Like normal."

"Well, I found this with his things yesterday." Steve rummaged in his pocket, pulling a gloved hand out to reveal a gold band ring with a traditional diamond set on top. "It belongs to you."

Another shred of my resolve slipped away as I reached for the ring, studying its simple perfection with a lump in my throat. "I didn't know he had a ring."

"He got it after I found him at the HYDRA base, said he wouldn't give up until he found you safe."

I merely nodded, blinking furiously through the dampness forming at the corners of my eyes.

"He loved you, Gin. Don't think he's ever fallen so hard for a girl before."

I looked up at him. "Promise after all this is over, we'll still be friends?"

"Course we will."

Steve stiffened when I embraced him tightly, only to relaxed seconds later. He sweetly kissed the top of my head, releasing me to walk back to his motorcycle. I secured the engagement ring on the necklace holding my mother's locket, hiding it under my shirt as Steve drove off into the forest to embrace the biggest battle of our lives.

-x-

Shoving the empty pistol back into the holster, I snatched the Bowie knife in my ankle sheath. My arm flew up from my side, the blade reflecting the neon lights above seconds before it slid across the delicate skin of the nearest HYDRA soldier's neck. Crimson blood leaked from the open crevasse as I spun gracefully around the falling body to take out my next victim. I didn't feel anything for these poor souls, blindly following the orders of a madman. I was once nothing more than a pawn, my life worth as much as theirs but knew if I didn't kill them, they'd do worse to me.

"Agent Renard!"

A short gust of air passed my lips, puffing up strands of loose hair falling around my face. Feeling a presence behind me, I glanced over my shoulder to discover Colonel Phillips surveying the scene of destruction. At least twenty dead soldiers lingered along the corridor before me.

"I think they're all dead, soldier."

"Good," I muttered bending down to wipe my blade on the soldier lying at my feet, and then returned it to the sheath. "Where is Captain Rogers?"

"He managed to board Schmidt's aircraft. We're trying to contact him on the radio." He waved me over raising his eyebrows whilst I rubbed my bloodied hands against my pants. "I think we can confirm this as a sign Zola's serum has made you one hell of a soldier."

"Is that a bad thing?"

"I think it makes you very valuable to our side, especially for future missions. We could use your skills if you still want to serve your country."

"You know I'll be the first to volunteer, sir," I replied following him to a communications room where Peggy sat before a microphone, talking quietly into it. "What's going on?"

"…there's not gonna be a safe landing, but I can try and force it down."

Steve's voice came through the system loud and clear. The shocking truth slapped me as wide eyes met Colonel Phillips', his grim features confirming the horrifying truth I'd heard.

"I'll get Howard on the line. He'll know what to do."

"There's not enough time!"

Sadness weighed heavily on me as I went to stand behind Peggy.

"This thing's moving too fast and it's heading for New York. I gotta put her in the water."

"Don't do this, we have time. We can work it out." She pleaded in vain, all of us recognizing Steve was following the only path left available to him. He would be selfless to the very end.

"Right now, I'm in the middle of nowhere. If I wait any longer a lot of people are gonna die. This is my choice, Peggy." Peggy glimpsed miserably up at me, my heart beating roughly in my chest. I would've given anything to save her from the devastation about to destroy her. "Peggy?"

"I'm here."

"I'm gonna need a rain check on that dance."

"All right, a week, next Saturday at the Stork Club."

The open wound created by my own grief, fractured even more as I listened to Steve's final conversation. He'd gone beyond risking his life, to giving it fully so the rest of us could have a future. I instinctively rested a hand upon Peggy's shoulder, letting her know I was right there beside her. It was my turn to be the supportive pillar, to save her from drowning in the grief to follow as she had done for both me and Steve.

"You got it."

"Eight o'clock on the dot. Don't you dare be late. Understood?"

"Y'know, I still don't know how to dance."

"I'll show you how, just be there," she pleaded sadly.

"We'll have the band play something slow. I'd hate to step on your…"

The quiet hiss of static cut through Steve's reply. I closed my eyes briefly, saying a silent prayer.

"Steve? Steve?"

Peggy desperately grasped the microphone until the tightened flesh of her knuckles turned ghostly white. I took the gamble to pry her hand away as her trusty, durable defensives crumbled away like ash from burning wood. There was no hesitation to take her in my arms, holding her close when the emotions imploded. My whispered words into her hair wouldn't console her breaking heart. I wanted nothing more than for this to be a cruel nightmare, to wake up at any moment.

Yet the radio static continued to buzz; Steve was gone.

[May 1945 – London, England]

"Must you leave? You haven't said where you're off too."

I continued to pack my suitcase even though Peggy's voice filled the room. Celebrations continued in the streets outside, genuine happiness spreading amongst the masses with the announcement of Germany's defeat. Finally, the war was over. Now came the mammoth task of rebuilding, in more ways than one.

"There's still work to be done, I've had no shortage of offers."

"You can't save the entire world, Genevieve." Peggy's heels tapped loudly as she crossed the room, coming to a stop beside me.

"No, but I can bury myself in work." I replied curtly, reaching for my faithful tin box. I held it tightly in my grasp, chin trembling as I flicked the lid open to reveal a photograph of me and Bucky. Grief inhabited every part of my being, twisting my emotions into the shadows where hope no longer lingered. Snapping the tin closed, I carefully hid it beneath a sweater and closed the suitcase.

"Will you at least stay for a drink? Stark's buying," her cheery tone didn't match her eyes when I faced her. A weariness lingered around her eyes, a certain sadness that would forever be present. The dreary room only enhanced our depression.

"I can't, I have a flight to catch this evening."

"So that's what you were talking to Colonel Philips about?"

I curtly nodded, unable to fight back a small smile. "My first covert mission, to Japan of all places."

"Sounds exciting."

"What will you do now the war's over?"

"I don't know, go wherever I'm needed I suppose." She pondered the thought. I believed she was good enough to fight alongside me, rather than hidden away in an office filing reports. The stunning brunette didn't need to prove herself to me, after all she'd trained me, turning a nurse into an agent.

"Promise you'll stay in touch?"

"Of course, I will. You're not getting rid of me that easily."

I reached for her, wrapping my arms around my friend, much like I did the last day I saw Steve. After everything we'd lost, I struggled with the thought of losing Peggy, she was the only one brave enough to keep me in line with the truth.

"Be safe out there," she murmured as we parted holding each other's hands for a long moment.

"I will. Next time, drinks are on me."

"You've got a deal." She beamed as I grabbed my suitcase, following her from the room to embrace the next journey.