Let's say goodbye with a smile, dear

Just for a while, dear, we must part

Don't let this parting upset you

I'll not forget you, sweetheart

We'll meet again

We'll Meet Again by Vera Lynn

While 1945 was welcomed with the confidence that victory was within sight, Emily felt a sense of dread when the clock struck midnight.

Thirty-six days. Thirty-six days until Steve disappeared into the Arctic Ocean.

Thirty-two until Bucky fell to his death.

No - it would be different this time. He swore that he wouldn't pick up the shield.

Bucky wouldn't fall. He promised.

As time slipped away, Emily found herself asking the other women if they had any news about the Commandos. Most gave her a tight, sympathetic smile before saying all intelligence was classified. She'd received a letter from Steve dated in early December when he'd assured her that everyone was fine but constantly battling frostbite. There'd been no news since the Battle of the Bulge commenced, though she knew that the squad would be moving towards Russia to help a pinned down battalion outside of Stalingrad by now.

Jane and Tony were making progress. She felt a lurch in her stomach and light headed every few days, and had to grasp the wall to keep from falling a few times when her vision blurred.

She couldn't sleep as January ended and threw herself into work, anything to keep her mind off of what was happening.

On the first of February, she hadn't been able to concentrate. Howard had tried to send her home but she refused, unwilling to leave and be further away from any potential news.

In the early hours of the second, Private Lorraine - Colonel Phillips private secretary - hurried into the lab and pulled Howard out.

And she knew.

"Emily."

Howard's voice was too soft.

"Mrs. Rogers."

Colonel Phillips. She squeezed her eyes closed against the tears that gathered in her eyes.

"Emily."

Peggy's hand touched her elbow.

"It's… it's Barnes."

Her ears were ringing but she heard the words "accident", "missing", and "tomorrow". Peggy was frowning and looked back at Colonel Phillips, motioning for something, as Emily reached up to touch her upper lip. Blood.

As she collapsed, she could only think one thing - she'd failed.

OOO

"Emily."

She was tired of that soft tone, tired of how people tiptoed around her and looked at her in the halls. Howard had driven her home the day before and tried to convince her to take the following day off but she had resisted. She needed to be there when Steve arrived.

But it was Dugan that found her first, his hat in hand, blinking against the snow falling into his eyes.

"Emily, I'm so sorry."

Unable to bear the whispers any longer she had fled to the park, ignoring the cold, and - after making the circuit around the frozen pond five times - settled on a bench. With a deep breath, Em looked up at him and tried to keep her chin from wobbling at the sight of his red rimmed eyes. "Where…?"

"With Phillips doing a debrief."

"How is he?"

Dugan blew out a breath and tilted his head towards the open seat next to her. When she nodded, he dusted the snow from it and sat heavily, placing his bowler hat back on his head. "He hasn't said a word over what's necessary. Morita says he's in shock."

Emily gulped and nodded, blinking away the tears in her eyes. "Everyone else?"

"As good as can be expected. What about you?"

"Same." They were silent for a long moment when Em heard his breathing hitch. "Dugan?"

"Sorry," he said, his eyes closed as he pinched the bridge of his nose and inhaled deeply. "Snow in the eye."

Without looking at him, she reached out a gloved hand which he took. She could feel the faint tremor as he struggled to hold himself together. After a moment, Em stood and tugged on his hand. "You should go and warm up - I'm sure it hasn't been comfortable travel these last few days." With a sigh, he stood and squeezed her hand, but when he pulled away she wouldn't let him. Instead, she stepped close and hugged him, burying her face in his chest and said, "Thank you for getting everyone home."

Dugan held her tightly and he sniffled again before replying thickly, "I just wish it was everyone. I'd've traded places with him if I could."

"I'm glad you made it back. The team… we all need you now. It's an unfair burden but Steve..." Em's voice caught and she shook her head, closing her eyes against the tears gathered there.

But Steve's going to go on a suicide mission and disappear in two days, and you're going to think that he died trying to save the world. And history is going to forget him, and Bucky, and the Commandos until he wakes up in 67 years and has to save the world again.

"I know," Dugan said, sniffling. "I know, kiddo." With one last squeeze, he loosened his hold. Em stepped back and looked at him, wondering how such a man could have ever haunted her dreams as a child. Having spent time with him, she understood why he'd volunteered to watch her family after the war - to protect them from anyone who dared look too hard at Dr. Erskine's family. He was fiercely protective of those who he called his friends. With a watery smile, he rubbed her arms. "Let's get inside before you turn blue."

They walked in silence, ignoring the happy laughs of the children in the midst of a snowball fight. Once back in the bunker, Dugan offered to help her find Steve but she told him that he should go and warm up instead, and to let her know if there was anything she could do. To which he replied, "Just take care of him."

As she made her way towards the main debriefing room, stripping off her gloves and draping her coat over her arm, she knew that they were still in there - soldiers flanked the doors to keep out unauthorized personnel. One of them looked over at her and gave a sad smile, "Mrs. Rogers."

"Any idea how much longer it'll be?"

"Not much - why don't ya go get a cuppa and warm yourself. I'll let the Captain know you've been lookin' for him."

Emily sighed, "Alright. I'll… I'll be in the lab."

"Ma'am."

She'd barely made it halfway down the hall when she heard the door open.

"-ind your wife and take the night while I try to get him to talk," Colonel Phillips said as he stepped out of the room, Steve drifting out behind him.

"Sir," he said softly. When Phillips turned away, motioning for the two sentinels to follow, Steve let his shoulders sag and his eyes drop to the floor as he shoved his hands in his pockets, and inhaled sharply before turning towards her.

She knew the moment he saw her because his footsteps faltered and he tensed. They stared at one another, not sure of what to say, before he dropped his eyes again and continued to walk towards her. But rather than stopping he moved to brush past her. "Steve," Emily whispered, reaching out to catch his arm.

He jerked away and lifted his red rimmed eyes to glare accusingly at her. "You knew, didn't you? And you didn't say anything."

"Steve -" she started but he shook his head.

"Don't. There's nothing you can say that will make me forgive you for this."

His words hit her like a physical blow and she gasped, feeling the tears start to stream down her cheeks.

"Was it because… because it wasn't about you? Is that why you didn't say anything?" he demanded. "You're only fine with change things if it's for your benefit?"

Emily took a step backwards into one of the alcoves, shock etched on her face as Steve's flushed with rage. "That's not - "

"You could have ended this all the minute you got here," he hissed, stepping towards her. "You could have told Eisenhower everything you knew and saved all of those lives but you didn't. You just.. just let them die - you let Bucky di-..."

"Stop," Em spat before taking a steeling breath. "I know that you're hurting right now but that… you can't put all of this on me. There are thing - important things - that happen because of this fucking war. And I told him, I told Bucky not to pick up the fucking thing, to be careful."

"But you didn't tell me," he said. "If you had, I wouldn't have let him - "

"What? Go with you?" Em demanded, clenching her fists. "You couldn't have stopped him, Steve. He would have been there with you even if I had to told him exactly what happened - you know that. And I told him… to be careful," she gasped. "And promise me that - no matter what - "

"Maybe you were right," Steve cut her off. "Maybe you shouldn't have talked to me… shouldn't have put yourself in my life before it was time."

Emily just started at him for a long moment before saying, "Maybe." Steve met her gaze before shaking his head and walking away.

When he turned the corner she let herself sag against the wall and slowly slide down it, safely hidden from view as she sobbed.

OOO

Breaking into the Smithsonian the second time hadn't been as easy as the first - he hasn't been able to swipe in with his SHIELD ID card and instead had to break a lock and use Natasha's tech to silence the tripped alarm.

When he'd told her the plan, she hadn't said anything through her eyes spoke volumes. She didn't think it was worth the risk.

Steve had tried to prepare himself for it but walking into the hall felt like being punched in the gut. Bucky's image was everywhere, from the mural on the wall and etched glass to pictures in cases.

Bucky. His best friend who he let fall and be captured, tortured and changed into a person Steve barely recognized. Who didn't recognize him. Who attacked Emily. Who let her go. Who needed his help to finally come home from the war.

Taking a deep breath, Steve strode up to where the dressed mannequins were. A smile tugged at the corner of his mouth as he neared.

"It's wrong but apparently it's too late to fix. I don't know why it wasn't caught earlier - there's a ton of pictures of you around here that they could have referenced."

Emily had obsessed over the stomach panel of his uniform and had sent him a picture to confirm that it was a mistake. Though he'd agreed that it was wrong - there hadn't been a red stripe on his origins design - Steve had shruggled it off and tried not to chuckle at her ranting.

He could feel her here - could have sworn that he smelt a faint whiff of her perfume and heard her huff of frustration. "It'll get the job done, Sweetheart," he said quietly while jumping up onto the platform.

After he changed, Steve made his way into the basement with his clothes bundled under one arm and his shield on his back. The harness wasn't as secure as he'd've liked it, but it would do. Once he was sure the nightwatchman wasn't anywhere near, he walked to Emily's desk and couldn't help but smile at the mess. He glanced at her overflowing inbox before running his finger over the post it notes she'd stuck to her computer monitor.

Sighing, he pulled open one her bottom desk drawer where she usually stored her purse and shoved his clothes and shoes into it. A glance at the clock on the wall showed him that it was almost time to meet at the rendezvous point, but there was one more thing he needed to do.

Nat had said that SHIELD would monitor all calls into the Tower, that it'd pull her into this and give away their position. But Emily worked for the Smithsonian - a call from her office wouldn't raise any alarms.

And he couldn't do this without saying goodbye.

He looked at the clock again before picking up the phone and dialing her number.

"Hey Sweetheart... It's Steve."

OOO

"... Protectorate of Bohemia and Moravia had one of the most infamous concentration camps slash ghettos - Theresienstadt - that served as a propaganda tool for not only the German people but the entire world. The Red Cross actually toured it in 1944 and gave their stamp of approval, and the Protectorate's government shot a film called 'The Fuhrer Gives a City to the Jews'..."

Emily gasped and opened her eyes to pitch darkness. Her heart was racing and she felt lightheaded as she touched the spaces around her, feeling wood under her fingers and grooved metal against her back. After a moment, she tentatively extended her leg and felt it hit something solid.

"Hello?" Nothing. Slowly, she shifted onto her knees and felt the floor around her before running her hand up the wall behind her. Her ears were ringing and her whole body hurt. When she tried to stand her ankle gave out and she fell back to the floor with a crash. "Merde! Hello? Is anyone there?"

When she didn't hear anything, Emily got onto her knees again and reached around her; her hand bumped into something and she heard it shift. Crawling closer, she realized it was a table and felt around on it before her fingers brushed what felt like a small box. Slowly, she ran her finger along it until she felt the familiar ridges of a matchbox. "Thank fuck," she breathed, grasping it and quickly striking a match.

Em blinked against the flare of light and held the match up high to look around at her surroundings and let out a sigh of relief - she knew exactly where she was. After striking a second match, she crawled closer to the bed and grabbed the flashlight laying in the center of it - exactly where she'd left it after the last air raid. With that in hand, she turned to look around the garden bomb shelter before grabbing her coat and putting it on.

"Okay," she breathed, pushing herself up to stand. "Okay, that was different." Favoring her ankle, she hobbled over to the three stairs and knelt on the second step to push open the door. She hissed at the cold and felt in her coat pockets for her glove and slipped them on before pushing against the door again. It gave only a bit but after a third push was open far enough for her to crawl out of the bunker and into the snow.

Squinting in the mid-morning light, Emily looked at the house before glancing back into the bunker to see if she could find her purse - no luck. Groaning, she ran a hand over her face and said, "God fucking damn it." With a deep breath, she pushed herself out of the bunker and onto her feet before limping her way out of the backyard and around the house. Her teeth were firmly dug into her lower lip as she slowly made her way to the neighbor's house. Mrs. Fitzgibbons was nosey but had a phone, which was exactly what Em needed at that moment - there was no way she'd be able to make it back to the bunker on a bum ankle, but hopefully a taxi would be willing to wait while she ran into the bunker to get Howard to pay the fare.

She'd just turned up the walkway to Mrs. Fitzgibbons' when she heard a car turn onto the road, its tires loud in the slushy snow. Hoping it was a taxi, she turned to see the jeep screech to a halt, fishtailing slightly before regaining control.

Em barely had time to open her mouth before Steve was crushing her to his chest. "What happened? Are you alright?" he demanded, pulling back to look her over. His eyes lingered on her face, darting over the scratches and scabs that had appeared.

"I'm fine," she said even as she grimaced. His hands tightened on her shoulders and he shook her slightly.

"Where've you been? I've been looking for you all night!"

"All night? I just saw you ten minutes ago!" Em said, pulling out of his hold and taking a step backwards. When she hissed in pain, quickly shifting her weight off her bad ankle, he frowned.

"You're hurt?"

"I don't… yeah, my ankle. But what - "

"Mrs. Rogers?" a voice behind her called, and Em quickly turned to see Mrs. Fitzgibbons peering out her door. "Is everything alright, dear?"

"Fine!" Em replied, giving her a tight smile. "Thought I locked myself out but Steve got here just in time!"

"Alright," the older woman said warily, looking between them. "As long as you're sure."

"Thank you, Mrs. Fitzgibbons," Steve said, lifting a hand to wave at her. She nodded and slowly closed the door, keeping her eyes on them as long as she could. "Come on, let's get you inside." When he moved as though to pick her up, Em shook her head.

"Don't - I can walk." He let out a huff of frustration but moved to her right side and wrapped an arm around her waist. Em gasped and jerked away from him, surprised by the sharp pain there.

"What is it?" he asked.

"Hurts," she said through clenched teeth; Em took a deep breath and Steve offered his arm, watching her carefully.

They were silent as they made their way slowly to the house, and Steve helped her shrug off her coat and settle on the couch before disappearing into the kitchen. She bit her lip while bending to remove her shoe and roll down her stockings, feeling unexpectedly sore. Emily stared at the ring of bruises around her left ankle and felt herself begin to shake. Slowly, she reached for her shirt, tugging it out from the waist of her skirt, and examined the dark bruises on her hips and waist.

"Here, this'll help with your - Jesus," Steve breathed as he stepped out of the kitchen and saw her. "What happened?" She didn't answer - didn't seem to hear him as she let her shirt fall and folded her left leg over her right knee, gently touching the bruises before lifting her hand and running her fingers over the scabs. "Emily?"

Slowly, she looked up to meet his worried gaze and said one word. "Arlington."

"Arlington?

"But that was..." she said softly, her eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

"Emily," Steve said, crouching in front of her and gently putting a hand on her leg. "Sweetheart, you have to tell me what happened - where you've been for the last day. How did you get hurt? Were you attacked again? Because if - "

"What are you talking about?"

"What are you talking about?" Steve countered. "What's Arlington?"

"The cemetery," Emily said after a long moment, looking down at her lap unable to meet his probing gaze. "We went...we went after someone destroyed your headstone and… and Bucky's… and there was," she shuddered, remembering those lifeless blue eyes and the gunfire. Seeing Carter's confused expression as she pressed a hand to the hole in his neck, his dark red blood gushing over her fingers. A cool hand touched her face and she looked up to see Steve's worried expression.

"What happened?"

"I'm sorry," she said, blinking against the tears gathering in her eyes. "I'm so sorry, Steve. I should have said something - I should have told him to stay off the train, told you to make him sit it out."

"Emily - "

"I tried to tell him to be careful - I did, I swear - I told him - "

"It wouldn't'a stopped him. Even," Steve said softly before ducking his head and wiping away a tear on his shoulder. "Even if you'd'a told him exactly what happened, he would've still wanted to be there… would have chosen to be there ...to have all of our backs."

Hesitantly, Emily reached out and ran her hand through his hair. As her fingers curled around his ear he reached up to catch her hand, holding it to his cheek and closing his eyes. She could feel his faint stubble as his jaw clenched under her touch. "Mon coeur…"

With a sigh, he turned his head to press a kiss to her inner wrist. "I'm going after Schmidt...Hydra… all of it."

"I know."

"We're leaving in a few hours." When he heard her sharp breath, he opened his eyes to meet her gaze. "I'm not coming back from it, am I?" Steve saw the tears welling in her eyes, followed the track the first one made down her cheek, and nodded.

"Steve - "

"You're close, too." His fingers gently touched her bruised ankle before his eyes focused on her stomach and slowly drifted up to her face. "That's what all this means, right? It's what happened last time. When they were in the mirror."

"I-I think so," Em sniffled.

"Good. I don't… I don't want you here… not after." Unable to hold it back any longer, Emily let out a sob and buried her face in her hands. She felt Steve's hand on the back of her neck as he guided her head onto his shoulder, murmuring softly, "Shhhh, Sweetheart. We knew it was coming. It'll be alright. Don't cry, honey, it's gonna be okay." She heard him take a shaking breath before pressing a kiss into her hair; it took her a moment to realize that she wasn't the only one breaking apart - Steve was trembling.

Slowly, Em pulled away and saw that Steve's face was wet. "Oh, love," she breathed, reaching up to cup his cheek.

"W-we're going to find each other again," he said. His attempt to reassure her came out as more of a question.

"Thirty minutes after you wake up," she nodded and then let out a watery chuckle. "Right after you take a jog and I try to take a nap."

"Thirty minutes," he repeated as his red rimmed eyes bore into hers before he pulled her in for a bruising kiss. His hands around her thighs guided her legs to wrap around his waist and, once she'd wrapped her arms around his neck, he lifted her off the couch. She wasn't sure how he navigated the way to her bedroom with his eyes closed, but within minutes Steve was groaning into her neck as he slid into her. He set a frenzied pace, his fingers digging into her hips with every thrust.

She could feel him edging closer and moved to reached between them but Steve stopped her, catching her hand and pinning it over her head while his other slipped between her folds. "Promise me," he growled. Her nails dug into his shoulder as she nodded. "Promise me."

"P-promise," Em panted.

OOO

Two days later a man in a dress uniform, hat in hand and flanked by a priest, stepped into the lab.

OOO

As he fell, Steve only had one thought.

"I'm sorry."

Author's Note: THERE! Finally, we reach the end of CA:TFA's time in the 1940s.

It was hard writing Steve being so angry at Emily, but I didn't think it'd be realistic for him to not lash out at her for not stopping Bucky. Just like it wouldn't be realistic for Steve not to want Em one last time before he went off on a suicide mission. So yes, mini smut scene at the end. I struggled to find a song for this chapter – I jumped between La Vie En Rose by Edith Piaf or Cristin Milioti's cover, Hurts Like Hell or Soldier by Fleurie, or I'll Be Seeing You by Billie Holiday; ultimately went with Vera because I've used a lot of her songs throughout the fic. She was known as The Forces Sweetheart because her songs were so popular during WWII.

Only one real history note here – Theresienstadt is a really interesting (read: disturbing) case of a hybrid concentration camp/ghetto that was inspected and signed off on by the Red Cross and was administered by the Jewish population; there is a lot of controversy because they were forced to choose who to send to the extermination camps where ultimately 33,000 people who passed through Theresienstadt were killed.

Thanks for sticking around for so long! And please let me know what you think.