I Just Want You by Sara Bareillies

Steve and the Howling Commandos spent two glorious weeks in London that March. Though he was billeted in the hotel near the bunker, he spent most nights at the house with Emily.

Unfortunately, that hadn't been before Howard had voiced his opinion about her staying at the house and his disbelief about her willingness to be out of the bunker after she'd been out during a bombing raid.

Steve had simply stared at her, aghast. He'd spent the next few hours detailing exactly why she shouldn't stay there, even going so far as to suggest that Howard could send her back to the States. She'd managed to shut him up by showing him the benefits of her being in the UK and the joy of privacy.

For her birthday, Steve had requested leave and they spent it walking around the city, laughing and clinging to one another for warmth in the near freezing temperature, and cooked dinner together that evening. He'd wrapped a battered ASE copy of The Great Gatsby - one that he'd carried across continental Europe for the last few months, resisting the urge to trade it away for a new book - wrapped in newspaper as a gift, apologizing about not having time to get her something nicer. Emily told him it was perfect.

He shipped out the next day.

The next few months passed quickly. Days were spent in the bunker. Howard escorted her home almost every night and retreated to his private domaine in the basement. Some nights were interrupted by the air raid siren and they both ran for the garden bunker.

As June began, Em found herself thinking about the future - not her time, but her future in the past, as confusing as it sounded.

It had been nearly a year since she'd woken up in that DC boarding house.

As much as it pained her, Emily knew that she had to accept that she might not make it back home.

She found herself making plans - just in case, she told herself. Howard paid her a generous salary and most of her expenses were covered while they remained in London, so she was able to save quite a bit. It would grow even more if she made a few solid investments - Stark Industries of course, Ford (though she was loathed to support an avowed anti-Semite), etc.

It would take a bit more to get into a doctoral program, but that was something she was determined to do. Emily would be Dr. Harthorn again, no matter what it took. And it would be difficult - following the war, women would be pushed from their jobs, and colleges and universities would make room for returning soldiers. The GI bill would make higher education more attainable for men, boosting their enrollment at the expense of women.

She and Steve…

Emily mentally stumbled when her plans came to this part… she didn't want to think about living through this without him. She didn't want to think that they only had two years together. Theirs may not be a romance for the ages, but they deserved more time.

But none of that mattered, Em told herself. Nothing had to be put into action until after March 1945.

OOO

Emily was sitting on the floor of the living room, sketching a rough outline for her next article - a longitudinal analysis of civilian war coverage leading up to D-Day. Newspaper clippings were scattered around her as Jo Stafford crooned on the radio. Howard had chosen to stay late at the bunker, sure that he was on the verge of a breakthrough on his new weapon prototype.

She sat back against the sofa and took a sip of water, giving her timeline a critical overview. While part of her wanted to focus primarily on the war coverage, Dr. Collins - her doctoral advisor - had once suggested adding in pop culture references if she ever wanted to get her work published outside of the academic sphere.

Not that this would ever be published or see the light of day.

But still, Em contemplated adding in something just to give the hypothetical reader a contextual example.

Placing her pencil behind her ear, Em stood and stretched before walking to the kitchen to retrieve the shears and refill her water, mentally reviewing the society news of the last few days. Jo Stafford gave way to Benny Goodman, and she hummed along to Jersey Bounce.

Emily had just settled back in the living room and was flipping through the newspaper again when she heard something rattle. She frowned when it happened again and then set the paper aside when there was a muffled sound outside the kitchen door. As she stood, shears in hand, and moved towards the room, there was a crash and the sound of glass hitting the floor.

"The fuck?!" Em shrieked as a hand reached under the blackout curtains and fumbled for the door knob. She'd just turned to run for the phone when three men burst in.

"What's she doin' here?"

"He didn't say there'd be a broad here."

"Hold it!" the third man - an American she noted - ordered her. Emily, of course, ignored it and ran for the phone.

"Fuck!" one of them yelled, taking off after her. Em had just picked up the receiver when a shot rang out; she screamed and dropped to the floor.

"No guns!" the third man, who was clearly in charge, snapped. "We don't want a body on our hands. Lady," he said, stepping around the couch to see her, but Emily had crawled away. "We don't want to hurt you. Just give yourself up and we'll make sure you're fine at the end of this."

'Right' Em thought, 'I'm sure'. She was terrified but knew that her only hope of escape was the front door and the possibility of a neighbor hearing what was going on.

"Check the windows," the leader ordered. "And find the lab - he said it was in the basement." He walked to the radio and turned up the volume. The Andrew Sisters belted out about the Boogie Woogie Bugle Boy of Company B.

Em felt a spike of anger towards Howard. He'd told her that he was working on projects for Stark Industries down there - "have to look past the war!" - and she was pretty sure this wasn't a case of corporate espionage.

"All clear, Sarge," one of them said, and Em froze. Were the burglars military? Why would the military need to steal what Howard was working on?

Em had stayed still a moment too long.

"There you are!" a man said, appearing at her side. She yelled, jumped to her feet, and swiped at him with the kitchen shears. He spun out of the way easily and scowled as she kept the shears at chest height, lashing out whenever he tried to grab her.

"Just leave and I won't tell anyone you've been here," she bargained.

"Can't do that, doll face," he grinned. "Got order to follow." His eyes darted over her shoulder, and Em felt a sharp blow to the back of her head.

Stunned, she fell to the floor with her ears ringing. She vaguely heard 'Take care of her' as a pair of shoes walked away. The shears, which had fallen from her hand, were kicked away as the man she'd grappled with crouched beside her. He gave her a sympathetic smile before saying slowly, "You're going to be fine."

Emily gasped when the hand closed around her throat. She clawed at it for a moment before remembering Nat's self-defense lessons. Quickly, she lowered her chin and brought her arms up, ramming her elbows into the crooks of his arms. Caught off guard, he jolted forward and loosened his grip. Em kneed him in the groin.

Groaning, he fell off of her and cupped himself. Coughing and clutching her throat, Em rolled to her side and pushed herself up onto her forearm, struggling to breathe. Stars were dancing at the corners of her visions as she reached for the table to steady herself and stand. She'd just managed it when her head was wrenched backwards by her hair.

"You bitch," he snarled when she yelped in pain. Gritting her teeth, swung her elbow into his gut and grinned at his pained grunt. "You fucking bitch."

Em staggered away, slipping on her scattered papers. She'd just flung out her hand to steady herself when there was a shout. Someone grabbed her wrist and swung her around before landing a hard backhanded slap.

Emily fell back and hit her head on the end table, and then everything went dark.

OOO

"Got him," Natasha grinned. "He's in DC." Steve sighed and leaned back against the countertop, crossing his arms over his chest.

"Alright," Sam said, "let's go."

"It's not gonna be that easy," Steve said. "Sitwell may not be the best field agent, but he's close to Pierce. He's gonna have people around him."

"So will Stern," Natasha added. "This isn't going to be as simple as a snatch and run. We're going to need to draw him out, not run in with guns blazing."

"Sounds like your kind of op," Steve said. "What'd'ya wanna do?"

"You ready to get back in those wings?" she asked, turning to Sam.

"Like riding a bike," he grinned.

OOO

Something was brushing her face, and Emily tried to push it away but her hand wouldn't move. "Come on, Emily. Open your eyes Sweetheart. Wake up. You're alright, Doll. Come on."

Groaning, she tried to roll away from the noise and grimaced at the shot of pain that went through her head and the ache across her throat.

"Honey? Emily, sweetie, open your eyes."

She struggled to do so but finally managed it. Her vision was blurry, and Steve's face swam before her eyes.

"It's gone!"

Steve looked over his shoulder before turning his attention back to her. "Can you hear me?"

"Wh-," she started to say before frowning and closing her eyes again.

"No, you need to stay awake," he said quickly, stroking her cheek again until she reopened her eyes. "Can you sit up?" His hand slid under her neck to support it as she clasped his other hand, allowing him to pull her up. Her hand squeezed his weakly as she cried out in pain as her head throbbed.

Howard appeared at her side. "Emily, what happened? Who did this? How'd they find the - "

"Back off," Steve snapped, guiding Em to rested her head on his shoulder. Quickly, he lifted her off the ground and moved her to the couch. As he wrapped a blanket around her shoulders, he turned to look at Howard. "What the hell did you have here? What's missing?"

Emily looked around, disoriented, and saw the destruction - her papers were strewn about the room, dishes broken, and tables overturned. The door to the basement had been ripped off of the frame and tossed into the living room. "Wh...what happened?" she stuttered.

"You don't remember?" he frowned, reaching up to stroke the cut on her temple before trailing down to brush his thumb across her split lip. Em hissed and pulled away from his touch.

"No," she replied, lifting her hand to touch her sore throat.

"Emily," Howard said, kneeling beside her. "Em, this is important. I need you to tell me anything that you remember, please."

"I…" she started while looking around. "I was writing...longitudinal analysis…"

"What?" Steve frowned.

"Il y avait trois."

"There were three? Men? Women? What?" Howard snapped. Steve jumped to his feet and hauled Howard up by the lapels.

"What'd you have here, Stark?" he growled. Howard moved to shove him off but Steve pushed him against the wall, nearly lifting him off his feet. "What nearly got my girl killed?"

"A military project," he grunted. "A gas. Type of amphetamine to give soldiers more stamina."

"Something for Phillips?"

"No. Didn't know about it."

"Who did?" Steve demanded, shoving him hard enough that Howard's head hit the wall.

"No one!" When his head hit the wall again, he held up his hands. "I sent a telegram to my head scientist at home, asked his opinion on something."

"I'm going to be sick," Emily rasped. Steve let Howard go and quickly returned to his girl's side, lifting her off the couch and hurrying to the bathroom.

"We're leaving," he said while holding back her hair. "I'll get my answers from Stark later."

OOO

Em kept her eyes pressed tightly closed and her head in her hands as they drove through London. To keep her mind off of the growing nausea, she hummed La Vie en Rose to herself, the noise covered by the loud engine. Steve kept his hand on her leg, thumb stroking gently, as he navigated back to his hotel. He wanted to carry her up to his room but she insisted on walking, and regretted it as soon as she'd stepped foot in the lobby. The lights shone too brightly and the lobby was filled with loud servicemen and laughing women that made her head pound, and her legs felt weak and wobbly.

Steve kept his arm wrapped tightly around her waist as he led her through the crowd, her quickly packed suitcase in his other hand. When his eyes weren't on her, they were scanning the crowd in search of his team. "Gabe!"

"Ugh," Emily groaned.

"Sorry, sorry," he apologized while jerking his head towards the elevator. Gabe Jones frowned and waved away his newfound friends and hurried over.

"What'd'ya need Cap? Emily?" When he caught sight of her face, he breathed, "Jesus. What happened?"

"Morita and Bucky. Send 'em to my room. I need you to get the rest of the team to go to Emily's house and try to figure out what happened there. I'll send Buck down to go with you as soon as I finish with him."

"She doesn't remember?" Gabe asked, glancing at Em, who had closed her eyes and rested her forehead against Steve's shoulder.

"I left the jeep out front," he stated, rather than answering the question. "You remember where it is?"

"We'll find it," he assured them. "Anything I can do in the meantime?"

"Just get Buck and Morita," Steve said, reaching out to press the button to call the elevator before folding Em into his embrace. "Just a few more minutes," he whispered before pressing a kiss to her hair. When the car eventually arrived, he pulled her out of the way as the passengers spilled out, shrieking with laughter. When another man moved to enter the elevator with them, Steve held out a hand to stop him. "Gonna have to wait for the next one, Private."

"Sir," he muttered begrudgingly before giving a salute.

"Sarge."

"He was a private," Steve corrected.

"No, one of them said 'Sarge'," she said. He pulled back to look at her, his eyebrows furrowed.

"You're sure about that?"

"Oui, il a dit 'Sarge'." A sad smile tugged at the corner of his mouth before he leaned down to kiss her.

"I love when you speak French."

Once safely shut in his room, Steve led her to his bed and gently pushed her to sit down. He crouched in front of her and slipped off her shoes, tossing them to the side, before guiding her to lay down. Once she was settled, he grabbed his rucksack and her suitcase, moving them to the table across the room where he shrugged out of his coat, tossing it over a chair while tugging his tie. Emily watched him with a dazed smile. "What?" he asked.

"I missed you."

"I missed you too, Sweetheart," he smiled. "You gave me a scare. This isn't how I wanted my leave to start."

"Me either." Shaking his head, he walked back over towards her and sat in the curve her body created. Gently, he brushed the hair from her face before his hand trailed down to touch the angry red marks on her throat that were already turning to bruises. Emily froze under his touch a tears welled in her eyes; she swallowed painfully and tried to blink them back.

"Does it hurt?" he asked, his eyes moving over her face to catalogue her injuries. She nodded as someone started knocking on the door. Steve jumped to his feet and glanced at her before going to answer it.

"What's so important that you're makin' everyone cancel their plans?" Bucky demanded as he shoved his way in. "Can't keep morale up when you're pissin' off your people, Stevie."

"Where's Jim?"

"Gettin' his - Jesus, what the hell happened?"

"Nice seeing you too," Emily groaned, pushing herself up.

He stared at her for a long moment before turning back to Steve. "You leave him alive?"

"Need you to figure out who did it," he snarled. "Howard had a lab at the house - "

"Son of a bit - "

"And someone broke in and took somethin'. Howard said he was working on something for the military, some type of gas. We need to find it."

"Any idea who did it, or where we can start?"

"Emily said there were three of them, and that one of them called the other 'Sarge'," Steve said, nodding towards her. "Doesn't remember much more than that."

"Sorry," she added, but both men waved it away. They were interrupted by another knock on the door.

"Gabe said you - "

"Over here," Steve said, leading Jim Morita into the room. The soldier paused for a moment, his eyes darting across her face and throat before readjusting his grip on his bag. Em realized with a jolt that it was the very one she'd so recently put on display at the Smithsonian, and fleetingly wondered if it had the pictures of semi-nude women hidden in the pockets like when she'd unearthed it from the museum vaults.

"Looks like you've been having some fun," the medic smirked as he walked towards her.

"You should see the other guy," she replied.

"Yeah?" he asked, settling down beside her.

"My elbow feels like I got him a few times," Em shrugged, rubbing her right elbow.

"Good girl. What hurts?"

Jim cleaned the cut on her temple with iodine and covered it with a bandage as he listened. He gently probed the back of her head and throat while asking about her symptoms. He interrupted Steve and Bucky's hushed conversation to have one of them retrieve some ice and water while digging in his bag.

"Here," he said, taking the glass of water Steve held out for her. Jim tore open a packet of powdered aspirin and tipped it into the glass.

"Ugh, you don't have the tablets?" she groaned, taking the proffered water.

"That's going to be easier on your throat. 'Sides," he grinned, "gotta keep my pills for in the field where we don't have nice, clean water to mix the powder with."

Emily grimaced while choking down the medicine. As nice as the cool water felt on her swollen throat, it hurt like hell to swallow. For a moment she thought she was going to be sick again but managed to breathe through it.

"You're gonna be in pain tomorrow," Jim said. "I'm gonna leave a few of these with you. Put ice on the bruises, hopefully that'll help bring 'em down. Nothin' I can do about the concussion. If it gets worse you'll have to go to the hospital, but I think it should be fine."

"Thanks Jim," Em sighed.

"It was a nice change from burns and bullets," he shrugged. "Let me know if you need anything."

"Morita," Steve said, stepping forward and reaching out for his teammate's hand. "Thank you."

"Just remember this next time you're assigning watches," he chuckled, drawing a smile from his commanding officer. The two moved to towards the door, leaving Bucky and Em staring at one another.

"We're gonna get the sons of bitches," he said after a moment. "Pardon my language."

"Just find whatever they took," she replied.

"We will."

Steve returned and nodded at his best friend. "You'll keep me informed?"

"As much as I can. They'll want a debrief in the morning, about this and…" he trailed off, his eyes shooting over to Emily. "Denmark."

After walking Bucky out, Steve locked the door and turned his attention to his girl. She was swaying slightly as she sat up, watching him. With a sigh, he walked over to her and placed his hands on her shoulders to steady her. "Let's get you to bed."

Slowly, he undressed her, happy that she'd forgone the garter belt and stockings she usually wore in the rush to get her out of the house. She reached behind and unclipped her brassiere as he turned around to retrieve her nightgown. When he turned back, he saw her shaking and tears shining in her eyes. "Sweetheart?" Emily gasped for breath and brought her hands up to cover her face as she started to cry, the events of the evening finally catching up with her.

Dropping the nightgown, Steve hurried over to her and gathered Em in his arms. "Shhh, you're alright," he murmured, rocking her back and forth. "I've got you, Honey. You're alright." He toed off his shoes and maneuvered them to lie down, her head tucked under his chin.

OOO

Midnight Oil. That's what Howard had called his creation.

They hadn't found any trace of who had taken it. Emily's part in the debrief the next morning had been short. Howard had raged about his lab being broken into, and Steve had seethed, barely able to keep his anger under wraps.

The meeting had been called short with Colonel Phillips had been pulled into a meeting with General McGinnis.

"Let's get some fresh air," Emily suggested as they stood. When she wobbled, he quickly placed a steadying hand on her lower back and led her from the room and - after exchanging a few words with Bucky - escorted her past the guards.

He briefly let go of her to put his hat on before leading her towards St. James park, which was nearly empty in the early morning. "I don't know why you're not more upset about this," Steve said as she looped her arm through his.

"I am," Em sighed. "I just don't think it's worth blowing up about. We can't change what happened."

"It shouldn't have happened in the first place," he muttered.

"Steve…"

"No Emily," he snapped, pulling her to a stop and turning to stand in front of her. "Howard could have gotten you killed."

"Mon coe - "

"I thought you were dead when I saw you! Do you have any idea what that was like?"

"But I didn't die, Steve. I'm right here."

"I don't want you to work for him anymore."

Stunned, Emily looked at him. "Excuse me?" A flush crept up his face as he clenched his jaw.

"I don't want you working for Stark anymore. First the bombing raid and now this? It's too dangerous."

"And what - pray tell - would you have me do instead?" she demanded, crossing her arms over her chest and glaring at him.

"Anything! Or nothing - you could go back to the States. I could - "

"You're not going to want to finish that sentence," Em warned him.

"Emily, I love you," he sighed, reaching out and placing his hands on her shoulders. "I just want you to be safe. I...I…" Steve stuttered and shook his head. "This wasn't how I wanted to do this, but my leave was cancelled and I'm leaving tonight."

"What? Since when?"

"This morning - Buck told me while you were getting dressed." Steve hesitated, rubbing the back of his neck before taking a deep breath reaching into his pocket. "I love you. You're so beautiful and smart, funny and stubborn. You see me for me, not for all of this," he said, sweeping a hand down his front. With another breath, he dropped to one knee. "Emily Rose, will you - "

"Are you proposing?" she gasped.

"If you'll let me," Steve gave her a shy grin and reached for her hand.

"Steven Grant Rogers," Em huffed, and covered her face with her free hand. "Get up please."

"Emily?" he asked, confusion creeping into his voice.

Sighing, Em cupped his face and kissed him, feeling her heart break as he smiled into their kiss and stood, his arms wrapped around her waist to lift her from the ground. "I love you," she said when they broke away.

"I love you too," he grinned.

Em bit her lip and blinked back the tears. This proposal had been so similar to his first - the one he hadn't been able to finish. "But I can't marry you."

"What?" Steve asked, his grip on her loosening so she landed on her feet. "Why not?"

The hurt in his voice was almost too much, but Em stood firm. "I...I just can't."

"Is this about you wanting to work? We can figure something out," he bargained. "I'll talk to Howard - "

"No, it's not that."

"You can go to school! I'll - "

Standing on her toes, Em kissed him again, tears dripping off her chin. "Please… I can't."

"Why?" Steve asked, tears glistening in his eyes. "I love you…"

"I know. I love you too but...but it'll change too much."

"It doesn't have to," he said, wrapping his hand around the back of her neck and pulling her closer. "Nothing will change."

"But it will. Maybe not here, but…"

"But what?"

She had to tell him. He wouldn't take no for an answer until he knew why. Emily took a deep breath. "It'll… it'll change us. It's rewriting our history. I've changed too much already, and I don't know if I'm going to get back but I won't risk this."

"What are you talking about?" Steve demanded, taking a step back. "Going back? Rewriting our history?"

"I need you to believe me when I tell you this, because it's true," Em pleaded before taking a steeling breath. "I don't know what I'm doing here...I don't know how I got here. I was in the lab and then… I don't know what Tony did, but I woke up in DC in the 40s. And I don't know how to get back, I don't - "

"Sweetheart," Steve said in a careful tone."You hit your head, you're confused - "

"I'm not," she sighed. "I know how this sounds, but it's true. I was born in 1989. I'm not a secretary, I'm a History professor at Empire State University. And you and I, we're looking for houses and talking about kids - I really want to have kids with you, Steve, I don't want to wait anymore. I know that I said I wasn't ready but after I got shot I - "

"You were shot?" Steve demanded before shaking his head and taking another step back. "Emily, I don't know what you're talking about. You must've had a dream or - "

"It wasn't a dream," she snapped. "It's the truth. Steve…I know how insane this sounds, and that's why I didn't tell you. But I can't marry you here, in this time, because if I do it'll change everything. You - "

"You're not making any sense!" he snarled. "Even if I believed you, it wouldn't make sense - if we were together… whenever! I'd have to be nearly one hundred!"

"Ninety-three, almost ninety-four," she smiled sadly. "But you're not. Steve - " he shook off her touch when she reached to cup his cheek. "I don't know what I can say to make you believe me, but I hope that you do. I don't want to hurt you, but I - "

"Tell me something then," Steve threw a hand up. "If you're from the future, tell me something."

"I don't - I can't tell you anything! I might change it!" she sighed, stamping her foot in frustration.

"This is ridiculous," Steve snapped. "If you don't want to marry me, just say no. Don't give me this cockamamie story - "

"It's not a story - "

"About you being from the future." Emily pushed her glasses to the top of her head and swiped at her eyes. Steve looked as though he wanted to say something but was biting his tongue. They simply looked at one another for a long moment before Steve cleared his throat. "I…" Unable to think of anything else to say, he shook his head, shoved his hands in his pockets, and started to walk back to the bunker.

Emily watched him for a moment before saying quietly, "It's almost June. If you're leaving now, you're going to Southampton because Operation Overlord is starting."

Steve paused, his shoulders visibly tensing, but didn't turn around.

"You're going to get on a ship - you said it was miserable because Dernier is terribly seasick - and then go to the rendezvous spot off the Isle of Wight. It's codename is 'Piccadilly Circus'. And in about a week, you'll complete the channel crossing and land in Normandy."

"You could have heard that in the bunker," he said softly. "That doesn't prove anything other than you spying...again."

"You told me that you and the Commandos were on Omaha beach, right in the worst of it. You told me it was the worst you felt during the war, until the Battle of the Bulge. And D-Day was terrible. There were issues with the navigation, and it was more heavily defended than anyone thought it would be. And it took days before the beach was taken, and by then over ten thousand men had died across all six landings - another four to nine thousand Germans. Dugan nearly drown getting off the landing craft. Falsworth lost his hearing for a while. Bucky nearly died taking out a sniper nest. And you, mon coeur, you were shot in the shoulder - your left, if I remember correctly."

He stood motionless, still facing away from her.

And then, without a word, he walked away.

Author's Note: A few notes on the history in this chapter. ASE (Armed Service Edition) books were incredibly popular during WWII. The Council on Books in Wartime - whose slogan was "Books are weapons in the war of ideas" - printed about 123 million books that were distributed to soldiers worldwide, providing an escape from the terror and boredom soldiers experienced during the war. There's an interesting book called 'When Books Went to War' that's on my stack to read about the subject.

Henry Ford supported a newspaper called The Dearborn Independent, which published highly anti-semestic stances. He was viewed at "a respected spokesman for right-wing extremism and religious prejudice". He is the only American who is mentioned positively in Mein Kampf. Hitler said that he was an "inspiration" and kept a full sized portrait of him next to his desk.

Phones were a luxury during the war - shortages made it difficult to have private lines, most people had party lines. Eavesdropping was a huge problem - the playbook of the University of Tennessee was given to opponent U Miss when a coach was accidently added to the line, and it also led to quite a few arrests after overhearing criminal activity - so Stark Industries, the SSR, and the governments would have insisted on a private line.

In the comics, the Commandos invaded a castle in the Danish Straits where Cap fought Nazis using arc reactor powered suits and tanks, but for continuity from the movie, I think of it as Tesseract powered. The Midnight Oil is pulling from a storyline that the first season of Agent Carter focused on.

Thank you so much for your patience with updating! This chapter is a lot longer than others, but I really wanted to push the plot forward. Writing Em telling Steve what was going on was pretty hard to write, mostly because I didn't know how to actually say it. I still love this story and hope that you enjoy it as well. I hope you enjoyed reading it!