Hey all, back again! Thank you Ebrithme for your review- it's great to see you again! This one's for you!

April 1st, 2014, Washington D.C.

"I have an idea, let's visit the Captain America exhibit."

Steve looked at his sister as if she'd grown a second head.

"Right. and have everyone swarming us demanding autographs and photos. No thanks."

Beth pouted, feeling restless and playful. A combination Steve knew all too well meant trouble.

"Come on! We can go disguised and have a laugh at all the things they got wrong! Plus, the nostalgia, think of the memories."

He didn't want to. He remembered enough, and didn't want to face yet more of them. Sensing his reluctance, Beth smiled reassuringly.

"You know, it'll be hard for me too. But I think in a way it'll be cleansing. Please?"

An hour later, they were standing in front of the Bucky Barnes display, Beth's gaze glued to the video clip of Steve and Bucky laughing her heart squeezing so hard she thought it would explode, Steve's gaze focused on the still image, the pain of seeing Bucky's laughing face almost too much to bear. When Beth's hand slid into his own, he held it tightly, moving his body slightly so no passer-by would question her tears as she silently cried next to him. Eventually, she managed to compose herself. Of course there was going to be a Bucky memorial there. She just hadn't expected there to be video footage. She hadn't even known there was footage of him in existence. Mentally, she made a note to contact the museum in the near future for a copy of the clip. It wasn't much, but it was something to add to her collection of memories.

They swiftly moved on to the movie room, Steve aware people were starting to give them strange looks as they lingered slightly too long at the Bucky exhibit. Once there, they were greeted with a video of Peggy, talking of her time spent working alongside the great Captain America. Beth couldn't resist a snigger as her friend stumbled over calling Steve by his real name instead of Captain Rogers and by the time the film ended, she felt lighter, her heart finally recovered from seeing Bucky.

"I want to see her".

She didn't have to ask Steve who he meant. Smiling, she nodded.

"I'm sure she'll want to see you too."

It wasn't the first time they'd been to see Peggy together, Steve having gathered his courage to finally go a few months earlier, but he had been reluctant to go back after seeing for himself how advanced her dementia was. It broke Beth to see her friend's gradual decline until all she had left were fleeting moments of clarity mixed in a haze of confusion, but for Steve, it had been like a bullet to his heart.

They were lucky, today a day she was fairly lucid, enough to greet the pair with a warm smile as they entered her room. Beth spoke for a short while, before excusing herself as always to allow her brother time with the woman he still loved. When she returned, Peggy was in tears as she marveled Steve being alive. The doctors called it an episode. Beth and Peggy's family preferred to call it a reset. Once they settled their friend again, they said their goodbyes and as Beth leaned down to kiss Peggy's cheek, the other woman took her hand.

"So, Beth, it turns out I was right all those years ago after all."

Beth halted, a glint in the elderly woman's eye she knew all too well. Considering the fact she was with Steve, she knew exactly what was about to be said. Peggy, for her part, simply ignored the begging look her friend gave her, pretending not to see the way she shook her head pleadingly.

"I told you there was a reason for you to keep living."

Numbly, Beth nodded before shuffling out of the room after her brother. She tried to avoid meeting his gaze as she softly closed the door, but his hand gently grasping her chin had other ideas. Her eyes flickered up, a lump forming in her throat to see him gaze intensely at her; a mixture of worry, sadness and anger darkening them to a shade she'd never before witnessed. She squirmed and attempted to back away, only for his grip to tighten, bolting her in place. It wouldn't have been too hard to throw him off, but that part of her, the Beth that remembered the scrawny guy she'd once been taller than, decided to rear her head and prayed for her to tell him. Sighing, she reached up to rest her palm on top of his hand.

"Please tell me you didn't..you wouldn't.."

She wished she could say no, tell him he'd jumped to the wrong conclusion, but she could never do that to him. Instead, she took a deep breath and nodded.

"It took me until the 1960s, but yes, I did."

He sagged, his hands clenching to fists as they rested on her shoulders. He was shaking, every muscle locked so tight, she was concerned they'd snap.

"I want to know." He spoke, his voice sounding as though he'd swallowed sandpaper.

She nodded, blinking back tears as she led him outside to sit on a bench facing the home. He didn't release her, and she didn't try to make him.

"I was on vacation, visiting Morita. It was actually going really well… until that morning."

...

March 10th 1967. James Morita's house, Fresno, California.

From the moment she woke up, Beth didn't feel right. There was a bubbling pit of rage and pain in her stomach and she didn't know why, but it made her feel positively hostile towards everyone and everything. Even seeing Morita's seven-year-old son Ronald quietly sitting at the breakfast table constructing a jigsaw puzzle failed to make her smile when normally she'd be there with a hug and kiss as she helped him. She left him to his own devices as she stepped out into the warm Californian air, the temperature not quite high enough to stop her shivering when the wind blew. She gripped her coffee mug tighter, rifling through her thoughts to explain why she felt so wrong that morning. It wasn't the anniversary of anything. As for birthdays-

The coffee mug dropped harmlessly onto the grass, closely followed by Beth herself as her knees failed to support her.

It was March 10th.

Bucky's birthday was March 10th.

Today, he should have been celebrating turning 50.

Visions of the life she was supposed to have swam through her mind and she couldn't clamp a lid on them in time for them to overwhelm her. By now, they would have been close to celebrating their 25th wedding anniversary. Knowing Bucky, he'd have used all the money from the Howling Commandos to live his dream of buying a house in Ditmas Park, and they would have filled it with children and dogs. She could picture it now; their eldest in his 20s, as tall and broad as Bucky with his mother's soft features, his arms wrapped round his very pregnant wife; a sharp thinking teenage girl with her father's looks arguing with her witty younger sister who took after her uncle; a miniature version of Bucky around 5 years old running around after their cocker spaniel puppy and giggling like a madman and finally; the toddler being held in Bucky's arms, a tiny, frail thing that looked so like her mother, yet with her father's carefree spirit and uncle's inner strength. Bucky would be smiling, their faithful red setter standing vigil at his side, too old to play anymore but still protective of his master. Beth could clearly see Bucky's eyes shining with love and adoration as he scooped his wife into his free arm to place a kiss on her lips, Beth wrapping her arms round him to lay her head contentedly on his shoulder as they watched their children, their legacy, enjoy the freedom they'd fought so hard for. In the background stood Steve, his arms linked with Peggy, their own children intermingling with their cousins. The whole day would have been full of laughter, joy, and enough noise to wake a neighbourhood. It would have been perfect.

Choking back a cry as image after image continued to bombard her, she took a few deep, steadying breaths. The images finally stopped and with it, so did her tears. She picked herself up off the floor and brushed the dirt from her clothing when the switch flipped off in her mind. As oif on autopilot, she numbly began walking to the shed at the end of the garden, unaware of the pair of bright green eyes watching her. When she pulled a handgun out of her waistband before shutting the door behind her, the owner of those eyes jumped down from his perch and ran to his father, who he found in the living room. Ronald Morita barely registered the two visitors sitting on the sofa as he flung himself at his father, even though he would normally have flung himself at them instead.

"Papa! Something's wrong with Auntie Beth! She dropped her coffee and fell to the floor then went into the shed with a gun!"

Morita's eyes widened at his son's words and he looked up to see his guests, Peggy and Dum Dum, already up and running. Calmly, he crouched down to ruffle his son's hair.

"Thank you, son. You did a brilliant thing, but I really need you to stay here for a while, okay?"

As his son nodded solemnly, Morita darted after his friends in time to see Dum Dum about to kick in the door to the shed, his face as red as the paint on the door. Before the large foot hand chance to connect, Morita's arm was there, pushing his leg back down.

"Don't. If we barge in, she's more likely to shoot. Also, if you trash my shed, I'll trash your moustache." the half-Japanese man threatened.

Grumbling, Dum Dum lowered his leg and Morita moved forward to speak through the wood to Beth.

"Beth, let us in."

When silence responded, he sighed before reaching under a stone and pulling out a rusted key. The door clicked as it opened and they peered in cautiously. Peggy was the first to react when she saw their friend sat in the corner, shivering violently as she propped her gun under her chin. There was no expression on her face. The lights were on, but nobody was home.

"Hey kid, come on now, put the gun down." Dum Dum spoke, his tone pleading.

There was no reaction from the woman and the trio shared terrified glances with each other, unsure of what they should do. Tentatively, Morita stepped forwards, but quickly stepped back when the finger on the trigger tightened.

"Okay, okay. I'm not coming closer, I promise."

The finger didn't relax and he turned to his friends with a desperate look.

"What is going on?" he mouthed.

The pair shrugged, as confused as he himself was as they watched Beth. Their minds whirred in a similar fashion to Beth, trying to figure the cause of the young woman's actions. It was Peggy who realised first, hitting herself on the forehead with her palm. As the two men sent her questioning glances, she ushered them outside, not wanting her words to be what caused Beth to finish pulling the trigger.

"It's Bucky's birthday. I remember last year, she said he would be 50 this year."

Understanding and a deeper sense of panicked urgency flashed across both men's faces.

"Oh shit. So, what do we do? Clearly, she's reached the point where she's decided she can't do it anymore." Dum Dum responded.

A determined look flashed across Peggy's face, the spark in her eyes one the pair had often seen, especially in times everyone else had given up.

"We give her something to live for."

Ignoring the confusion from the two men, she strode back to the shed and crouched down in front of Beth. The finger on the trigger twitched, but she didn't react as she had with Morita and Peggy took that as a positive sign.

"Ronald was the one who saw you come in here and told us about the gun. How will he feel knowing this is what you came in here to do?" she asked, her voice gentle despite the severity of the words.

No reply, but something flickered in the Blonde's gaze. Sighing, Peggy settled for a different strategy.

"Do you really think Bucky would be happy with you or even forgive you if you do this?"

The flicker came again, this time stronger and echoing with anger.

"He would want you to have a party, celebrate his fiftieth for him, not kill yourself."

There was a whisper, and had she been further away, Peggy would have missed the words that came from Beth's mouth.

"I've tried. Every year I do it, but it only gets worse. I can't do it any longer."

As quick as a flash, Peggy's hand landed on Beth's knee. The action forced the younger woman's eyes to snap to the brunette's, though the gaze remained blank.

"Yes you can. You have so much yet to live for and so much more to give to the world."

The blankness began to fade, but until the gun was lowered, Peggy wasn't about to stop.

"What's the point when I have no reason to do it and nothing to live for?" she asked, voice growing less detached with every syllable.

Peggy's eyes softened as she reached up to cup Beth's cheek.

"Yes you do. Not only do you have us, but I am going to need your help more than ever in about 6 months. What do you think Bucky would say if he knew you'd done this right as I need you around to help me teach my husband how to raise a child?"

Had she been looking, the shocked expressions on Dum Dum and Morita's faces would have made Peggy laugh, but her eyes were firmly locked on Beth. After a few more seconds of silence, there was one slow blink. Another.

"You're 45."

A cross between a laugh and a sob escaped Peggy's lips as Beth's face scrunched in comprehension of the information, her gaze growing clearer with each second. She was coming back.

"I am, which is even more reason I need you. If something happens, I need you to look after this baby for me. I want you to be his or her godmother."

With a shaking hand, Peggy reached out and took the gun from Beth. Where she expected resistance, the weapon slid easily from the blonde's grasp. Within seconds, the gun was in Morita's hand being disassembled and Beth was cradled in Peggy's arms, body heaving with heart-wrenching sobs as the older woman rocked her.

…

Steve look at Beth in horror. She'd come so close to breaking.

"I didn't break though. I'm still here and not going anywhere." She spoke, knowing his thoughts as if they were her own.

she didn't hesitate when he opened his arms, stepping into his embrace as he held her close. his head buried in her hair and she knew, he was thanking Peggy for helping her choosing to live.

At that moment, so was she.