**A/N: Happy New Year's everyone! Hope that everyone is having an amazing night! I have a pretty nasty head cold which means I'll be ringing in the New Year (finally) watching Daredevil and Jessica Jones. Yes... I haven't done that yet. All my free time is spent writing, and I wanted to give these two shows my undivided attention, so I've been waiting for a time like today to finally dive in and enjoy these beautiful gifts from Marvel and Netflix.

Hope you all have a safe night, and an amazing New Year!


Chapter 30- The Girl With The Broken Smile

"I drove for miles and miles and wound up at your door. I've had you so many times but somehow I want more. I don't mind spending every day out on your corner in the pouring rain. Look for the girl with the broken smile. Ask her if she wants to stay awhile and she will be loved."

~She Will Be Loved, Maroon 5


After doing a lot of digging, the team found Klaue's last dealing being set in a salvage yard off the African Coast. Ultron had done a good job clearing out all their information, but there were things even the intelligence couldn't hide from them. Klaue had just made a deal a few hours ago, so they were confident he was still there and set out immediately. Bethany took two minutes to collect herself and force her way into the quinjet without saying goodbye to Jamie. If she went down, she had a feeling she wouldn't be able to leave and she was adamant on fixing her mistakes. Steve, however, had taken the opportunity to see his son. He was a little less bulletproof when compared to his wife.

"The Maximoffs will be there," Steve told Bethany as they sat in their customary seats on the quinjet.

"And?" She asked him, not understanding his point.

"Just wanted to warn you. So you'd be prepared," Steve explained. "Look, the reports show that the girl is able to really play with your mind. Old memories and fears… I just want you to be on guard Bethany. I know how bad your past has been."

She said nothing for a minute before turning to him with a simple smile on her face. "I'm more worried about my future than my past," Bethany replied. "Nothing that she could pull up from my past can hurt me."

"If you say so," he mumbled quietly, clearly not believing her. But Bethany stood firm in her assessment. This Maximoff couldn't show Bethany anything that she hadn't already seen or dreamed of. Almost every night, she saw herself killing her loved ones, or her loved ones dying and her not being able to do anything about it. She dreamt of Loki and HYDRA and of hearing Steve's static filled voice telling her goodbye as he crashed the Valkyrie into the ocean. Nothing this girl could show her would be able to beat any of that.

"Here," Tony said to her, handing her a bracelet type gadget.

"What is this?" Bethany asked, taking it in her hands.

"The upgraded version of the flame thrower thingy," Tony explained. "Since you hated the old one."

"It was too big," Bethany defended.

"Yeah, so this one is small," Tony concluded. "Same idea on how to activate it. Only use it if you have to though. I have a feeling this place would go up in flames."

"Agreed," Bethany nodded, attaching the device to her uniform. She adjusted it, agreeing with Tony's words. It was much smaller and wouldn't get in her way. She still wasn't sure why she couldn't just use her guns, but Tony was adamant on her having a gimmick. And apparently spontaneous healing wasn't it for him.

By the time they arrived, they had already pulled out building blueprints and created a plan. It was simple enough, but their plans never really went the way they wanted them to. It wouldn't be as easy as they wanted, and if it was they would know that there was something else in the works. They had learned that lesson from Loki.

Since Natasha, Clint and Bethany were spies first, it was agreed that they would hide out in the wings, surrounding Ultron. The idea was to keep him from escaping, but they knew that he could easily slip out through the internet. They had to make sure, however, that Ultron didn't take the vibranium, if that's what Ultron was indeed after.

The Maximoffs were going to make things more difficult, that Bethany knew for certain, but she refused to be afraid of what could happen. Her shaking and dwelling on what could happen wasn't going to get the job done. She needed to remember what it was like to be that dark-haired and heartless agent of SHIELD who had very little to lose.

Banner was staying in the quinjet. Where Ultron was hiding wasn't exactly the most stable place and it was better if the Hulk was just a back-up. Thor, Steve and Tony were ready to be front and center, to take most of the beating if necessary. Bethany interjected at that point, but Steve quickly reminded Bethany that her aim was insanely accurate and even while hiding in the shadows with Clint and Natasha, the three of them would do a lot more harm shooting than being out in the action.

When Bethany had raised her gun at Steve and the Iron Legion robot that held him up above the bar the night before, it had been automatic. She didn't even think about what she was doing, just about aiming and closing in on the shot. On pulling the trigger. But she had been confident enough on her aim the night before that hitting Steve hadn't even occurred to her. There was absolutely no way she'd miss. She needed that same confidence now.

"Just like old times, huh?" Clint whispered to Bethany as the two of them watched Natasha take her spot before they kept moving to their own ones.

"In a way," Bethany agreed. "Still, I'd love to have some of that ruthlessness now."

"What do you mean?" Clint asked, looking around a corner before they stalked forward.

"I used to kill without thinking about it. But now…"

"Good thing we're fighting a robot then," Clint reminded her.

Bethany shook her head, letting out a deep breath. "The Maximoffs. They're just kids, Clint. They may think that they're doing the right thing."

"Does anyone ever think that they're doing the wrong thing? Don't all villains do things because they believe, in their messed up little brains, that it's the right thing for everyone? Or maybe just for them?"
"What if they're right?" Bethany asked suddenly, Clint stopping in his spot. "What if we're the villains? What if we create more problems than we solve and the world would be better off without us?"

"Well then Ultron should let us retire so we can be with our families, not depriving us and them of that," Clint reasoned. "I understand your… concerns. But right now, we have a job to do-"

"I know Clint," Bethany brushed off, rolling her eyes. "That was my pep talk to you once upon a time, remember?"

"I remember," Clint nodded. "I just needed to know if you did. Now go take your spot. Guard your husband's six."

"Right," Bethany whispered, following Clint words, still trying to dig that old SHIELD agent inside herself out of retirement.


"You know, it came at great personal cost," Klaue told Ultron. Steve could see the exchange happening, but they had to be careful about when they made their presence known. If the girl, Wanda, was paying close attention, she would be able to sense them. "It's worth billions."

"Now, so are you," Ultron declared. "It's all under your...'dummy holdings'? Finances, so weird. Well I always say, 'keep your friends rich and your enemies rich and wait to find out which is which'."

Ultron had got an upgrade since they last saw him. Now he wasn't some weak bot, not able to fight his own battles. He looked as menacing as he sounded. There's a lot of things that Steve loved technology for. Microwaves and internet were one thing. A murderous metal man was another. But if Ultron had the same idea of peace as the rest of the team, Steve could see how he would be a benefit. However, he wasn't fond of the idea of scaring people into following the rules. It was how society operated and in his opinion, it wasn't the best way. When people committed crimes, they had to be punished, but more so, put away for the safety of everyone else. Steve couldn't care less if these people had books or movies or gross meals that rivaled the hospital meals he choked down whenever he or Bethany landed themselves into a hospital bed. The point was to keep them away from the people who deserved a safe world.

"Stark," Klaue said suddenly, making Steve's heart freeze for a moment thinking that their element of surprise was gone, only for the man to continue when Ultron prompted him. "Tony Stark used to say that. To me. You're one of his?"

"What?! I'm not...! I'm not," Ultron defended quickly. "You think I'm one of Stark's puppets, his hollow men? I mean look at me, do I look like Iron Man?"

Steve was taken aback at how much Ultron sounded like… well, like Tony. So many people compared Tony to Howard, time and time again, Steve and Bethany included. It was more than obvious that it irritated Tony. The Howard Stark that Steve knew was a brilliant man and a dear friend, the same man that Bethany knew to be her loving brother. Tony knew someone different however, and always took it as an insult.

It was like Tony's entire life was spent trying to make a name for himself. And he had. But regardless, he couldn't shake his image as Howard Stark's son. Ultron evidentially felt the same way about Tony, who in all sense of the word, was Ultron's father.

"Stark is-" Ultron continued in a rage, accidentally breaking the bottom of Klaue's arm straight off from the rest of his body. "I'm sorry. I'm s...oooh. I'm sure that's gonna be okay, I'm sorry. It's just, I don't understand. Don't compare me with Stark!" Ultron then kicked Klaue down a flight of stairs, Klaue's right hand man going down after him. Steve looked across the platform, seeing Bethany in her place, gun in hand.

"It's a thing with me. Stark is, he's a sickness!" Ultron continued before Steve gave the signal, indicating it was the perfect time. They had eliminated two of the people they had to deal with and everyone was in place.

"Ahh, Junior," Tony voiced as he flew in. "You're gonna break your old man's heart."
"If I have to," Ultron justified.

"You don't have to break anything," Thor spoke as the three men took their place on the platform across from Ultron and the Twins.

"Clearly you've never made an omelet," Ultron replied.

"He beat me by one second," Tony quickly claimed, making Steve agree to his earlier evaluation. Ultron was a lot like Tony.

"Ah, this is funny, Mr. Stark," the boy, Pietro began. "It's what, comfortable? Like old times?"

"This was never my life," Tony said looking around. This Steve believed. Tony had been victim of someone selling his weapons on the black market and who then tried to kill him with them. This wasn't Tony's style. It wasn't Howard's either, as the man had been accused of something similar after the Second World War.

"You two can still walk away from this," Steve said to the Twins. The last thing he wanted was for two innocent kids to be pulled into Ultron's plans because of what? He promised them freedom? Revenge? Peace? Ultron's idea of all three of those words weren't the standard definition. He had a feeling that they didn't know everything that Ultron was up to. That they had one common goal which led to their alliance that led the Twins to believe that this was a good choice for them.

"Oh we will," Wanda assured him. He didn't like her tone. It was the same one Bethany used when talking lovingly to Jamie, but filled with malice opposed to love. She was babying him.

"I know you've suffered-"He felt obliged to say. He was going to try his hardest to get these kids away from Ultron and to where it was safe. No one wanted to hurt them, which could very well end up being their biggest weapon.

"Blah!" Ultron interrupted Steve, giving a chuckle. "Captain America. God's righteous man, pretending you could live without a war."

Steve's jaw clenched, but not with anger. He was trying to keep his emotions in check. He didn't want anyone to see how in one sentence, Ultron had just shown him why he wasn't willing to hang up the shield. Because he couldn't live without a war.

That idea alone was baffling. He fought for peace, for freedom. His image back in the forties showed that the war would soon end and that they would be victorious. Every raid, battle, mission that he had participated in through the years had been with that one goal in mind. But it was true. Steve couldn't live without a war.

Bethany could picture a future where there were no battles. Where it was just him, her and their children, happy and safe. And yes, when he was first pulled from the ice, he truly believed that this could happen for them one day. But after everything that had happened… when he thought of their future, he knew very well that it wouldn't be as simple as Bethany wanted it.

His eyes met Bethany's and even from afar he could see what she was feeling. Hurt. Betrayal. Understanding. Heartbreak. And all of her emotions were justified. Steve had known this for a while now, but he had never been able to explain it to her, let alone himself, the way Ultron had.

"I can't physically throw up in my mouth, but-" Ultron continued.

"If you believe in peace, then let us keep it," Thor interrupted, coming to Steve's rescue.

"I think you're confusing peace with quiet," Ultron supplied.

"Yuh-huh. What's the Vibranium for?" Tony pressed on, having enough of the idle chatter.

"I'm glad you asked that, because I wanted to take this time to explain my evil plan," With that, Ultron raised his hand outwards and used some sort of magnet to pull Tony forward. Before Steve or Thor could move to help, two of Ultron's robotic minions appeared from nowhere. Steve could see, out of the corner of his eye, Tony being thrown back into the wall before flying forward to attack Ultron, but he was more focused on trying to get the robot to stop trying to kill him. He seemed to anticipate all of Steve's moves, even going so far as to grab Steve by the neck and push him against the rails of the platform. Steve used his angle to hit the bot twice with his shield, slipping from his grasp and kicking him down before noticing Wanda Maximoff waiting anxiously for him.

He went to move forward, but she attacked quickly, a stream of red pushing him back into the robot who was getting back onto its feet. Klaue's men began to attack no one in particular, bullets flying through the air at random. Ducking behind his shield at a series of attacks, he tilted it, sending the bullets back in the direction they came from before throwing his shield towards where he saw Pietro. Before even blinking, the man was gone and Steve was sent backwards with a powerful punch to the jaw.

"Shit," he said under his breath, his shield bouncing off the wall and coming back to him. He quickly caught it, tenderly touching his jaw. His eye caught Bethany up a level, fighting off at least five gun men. He knew she could take care of herself, but he threw his shield in their direction, knocking out three of them before catching his shield again.

One of Ultron's minions came at him, so Steve quickly pressed his shield to the robot's neck, using his strength to hold him in place while Thor swung his hammer, cutting the bot's head off. Jumping over the ledge of the platform, he threw his shield to hit more of Klaue's men, catching it and then using it to knock Pietro back down to the ground. Steve wasn't sure how he ended there in the first place, but they would have better luck if he wasn't running around getting in their way.

"Stay down, kid," Steve ordered before Bethany called his name. Looking at her, he saw her battling off a huge group of men. Jumping up onto a railing and swinging himself up, the two of them quickly outwitted the barely trained men, using a lot of teamwork that they had developed when they did missions for SHIELD together.

"Guys? Is this a Code Green?" Bruce's voice echoed through the comm.

"Bruce, do NOT engage," Bethany ordered before laying a hand on Steve's shoulder, him quickly scooping her up bridal style before jumping down four floors.

"Thor! Status?" Steve questioned as Bethany slipped out of his arms, aiming her gun upwards, pulling the trigger and watching as a man yelped, falling down and landing beside them.

"The girl tried to warp my mind," Thor reported. "Take special care, I doubt a human could keep her at bay. Fortunately, I am mighty."

"Modest, isn't he?" Bethany said before ducking as a guard tried to hit her, Steve retailing by hitting the guard with his shield, the man flying back.

"At least he's-" Steve began before he was pushed forward at incredible speed, thrown into stairs. He didn't even get a moment to recover before his vision was hit by red, the feeling powerful and overwhelming. He winced, trying to clear his eyes, his thoughts, hearing Bethany calling his name, but everything turned dark…

Everything was quiet. Too quiet. With that eerie feeling that you only got when stuck in a dream. Everything was still and perfect. Everything. It couldn't be real, but there it was, right in front of him; a small house, tucked away from civilization. It was yellow with white window trimmings and blue curtains pulled from the sides and secured with a piece of the same blue fabric, letting the sunshine in. The grass was a rich shade of green and there was a garden filled with colours that only existed over the rainbow. There were no weeds within sight. Everything about it was utterly perfect. It was breathtaking. But it was also haunting. There was no sound. Not even the wind or the chirping of a bird. The silence was deafening.

Everything in his immediate eye view was perfect, as if being an image an artist casted upon a canvas for generations to admire. But the only thing those generations would see was the painting. They wouldn't see what the artist hadn't drawn, everything that was left unspoken. As soon as Steve looked beyond where the frame would have rested, he saw death. The grass outside the white fence was brown and straw-line, with no life within his gaze. A sound started to drift towards him, breaking the utterly haunting silence. It was a distant hum of a record player playing some song that had been lost in time. But it brought no reassurance or comfort. It brought Steve nothing but more fear. Taking in a deep breath, he pressed forward.

The music got louder as he opened the door, slowly, not sure what would be on the other side. But again, everything was still and perfect, as if captured in a painting. Steve turned his head to look at the mirror beside him, nailed to the wall. He was wearing his military uniform, which was perfectly pressed and clean, as if brand new. Steve lifted his hand up to touch his reflection, but the man in the mirror seemed distant. It didn't feel like it was him. How could it be? Just like everyone else around him, he was perfect. There were no scars, no bags, no worry.

Shying away from the mirror, he walked further in, seemingly knowing where he was going. To the kitchen. But there was no way that he could know where he was, was there? He had never been to this house before. Or had he?

Unlike the rest of the house, the kitchen looked lived in. A kettle was on the stove, the fire underneath it bright red and hot. A record player was tucked away in a corner, crackling as the needle hit certain curves. A loaf of bread sat on the counter top, in the middle of being sliced with a knife lying beside it, but abandoned.

It was all abandoned.

He wondered for how long and for what reason. At the table, a stable but rickety looking thing, a newspaper was thrown on top of it. He moved towards it and touched the edge. GERMANY SURRENDERS it read. HEROES TO FINALLY RETURN HOME.

The word 'finally' caught him. Surely he hadn't been gone that long? The date on the top of the page showed that the war had been a reality for close to a decade. No, that's not right, Steve told himself.

"Daddy!" A little girl cried, tearing into the room. "Mommy, Daddy is home!"

He looked down at the little girl who was clinging onto him, a mop of blonde curls sitting on her head. She looked so familiar, but Steve couldn't place where he had seen her before. She had a gap in her smile from a missing tooth, and her eyes were a shade of green that were unforgettable. She wore a pink and yellow patterned sundress and a smile as if he were her hero.

Another child came in, this time a little boy, no older than four. He too had a mop of blonde curls on his head, but with wide blue eyes and a smile with lips that were so familiar. He looked down at the little boy as he stared at him in confusion, as if not knowing who he was. But he could see himself in the little boy and it pained him to think that his own son didn't even know who he was.

"Welcome home," Bethany's voice trailed to him. She came into the room, her hair up in pin curls like it had never been before, her lipstick as red as blood. She wore a stiff white dress and a green apron on top of it, making the colour of her eyes pop. She looked perfect. Too perfect. So perfect that it was unnerving. In her arms was a baby boy.

Home, he repeated to himself. This was home. A place so foreign and yet so familiar. And these children surrounding him… they were his. And Bethany's. On her finger sat a modest diamond ring. Home.

But he didn't smile. Panic was setting in. Slowly, a whistle grew, piercing his ears. A flash of a train appearance. Snow. Ice. Bucky.

He blinked hard, tearing himself away from the little girl clinging to him and looking to the sound. It was a train. It was the kettle. Hurrying to take it off the stove, he relaxed a little. When he turned back over to Bethany, she held a champagne bottle in her hands, expertly cradling the baby to her hip, her arm wrapped around him to keep him secure in his place. He winced as the champagne bottle popped and the cork fell to the ground. Another flash hit him. Guns. Bullets. Death.

The bubbles fell to the ground, firstly running down the neck of the bottle and then down Bethany's fingers, the white and clear substance turning thicker and darker. Redder. More blood, making a puddle in between him and Bethany.

"Go get your uncle," Bethany told her children, placing the smaller one in his arms before softly pressing her lips to his. All he could taste was iron. "You're finally home," she whispered, but there was very little real emotion in her voice, her eyes hollow and lifeless. She was a shell of the woman she should be. Even her smile looked broken. She didn't belong in this house. She belonged behind the fence. He couldn't help but wonder if this was his doing. If he had turned this once lively girl into the walking dead.

"Smile!" he heard, a bright flash of light attacking his eyes. Another flash, but this one not brought by the camera but by a flood of memories. Lights blasting from every which direction. Bombs. Screams. Death.

When his vision cleared, they were all gone. All the children, Bethany, whoever was behind the camera. But instead of panic rising in him, he was calm. The music no longer frightened him. The atmosphere was no longer suffocating him. There was a sense of peace. But when he blinked again, it was all back.

And just outside the house, visible in the distance, the area outside the fence, was the cries of hundreds of men, shouts of their commanders and the loud bang of gunshots. An explosion shook the house. The baby was back in Bethany's arms, crying loudly. The lively children from before were on the ground, not moving, a thin trail of blood falling from their noses.

Howard, who dropped a camera, the bulb making a startling crack sound, was hunched over the table, working on something, muttering to himself obsessively. Before Steve stood Bethany as he had known her before. "Don't go," she told him, as the baby's cries started to fade. Just like the other two, blood was trailing from his nose. He was dying.

Steve looked back out the window. He could see his team, calling from him, begging for him. Bucky was there, waiting. They were all there. Counting on him. "Don't go," she said again. "Don't leave. Not again. Stay home. Stay with us."

Her lipstick started to run down her face in a thin trail, dripping off her chin and falling to the ground. It no longer resembled blood. It was blood.

"I can't," he whispered to her.

She hadn't wanted this; a family. She only did it because he asked her to. But he had been at war this entire time, leaving her with them, in a home that didn't feel like home.

"Then it's on your hands," she told him, her voice and face void of all emotion. Steve looked at the lifeless children on the floor before looking back up to her, watching as a thin blade from the bread knife danced across her neck, a dark figure behind her controlling the knife.

He wasn't being tied back physically, but he couldn't do anything, not even make a sound as blood flowed from her neck, down her perfect white dress, then joined the rest of the blood coating the floor. Her body crumbled to the ground with a thwack but he still didn't move. All he did was stand there and watch as his entire family slipped away from him knowing that he could have stopped it.


**A/N: To everyone who felt that Steve's original vision was too tame, did this meet your expectations?

anonymouscsifan: Steve definitely has some trust issues. Bethany has operated on a need-to-know basis for the majority of her life, and she still believes that sometimes that's the best way to go. First thing next chapter, we'll see what Bethany's vision is. I feel like people will be shocked at what she sees and more importantly, how she reacts to it. It's not a typical Bethany way. There's a change in her after she sees what she sees, and she realizes a lot about her life.