A/N: As you might have already seen, the titles to these stories have been updated, as in the past several weeks, I have come up with ideas to continue this storyline beyond this installment. The only one privy to these future ideas is my devoted follower, Skylar Winchester, who has been nothing short of an incredible sounding board as I keep working to develop my saga. My dear, I thank you from the bottom of my heart. :)

To all those who continue to read and review, thank you.

"Okay, now this next part should get a laugh out of you," Kim said, though didn't expect a response as she continued to watch the video playing on her laptop. Earlier in the day, she and Stark had spent the better part of two hours experimenting with and trying to find a cause behind her kick-back, and she was eager to show Rebecca what had taken place.

"Okay," Stark's voice clearly came through the speakers as he moved closer to where Kim stood, "let's have you do that again so I can compare your readouts. You ready?"

Her image briefly turned to question her physical therapist, who stood behind her, and he gave an acknowledging nod. "Raring to go," Kim replied, shifting from foot-to-foot.

"Alright, you set, Mike?" Stark said to his designated cameraman, who gave an affirmative reply. Then he tapped on his tablet one last time, "Go, Kim."

Taking a breath, she lifted her right foot and stomped down hard, and then she was suddenly airborne, bounding in a slight arc in the opposite direction until she fell awkwardly to the gym mats beneath them, taking down her PT at the same time as he tried to catch her. Both released a muffled Oof! as they tumbled to the floor.

"Whoa, there!" Stark called out, half-laughing, but coming to check on them. "You guys alright?"

"Yeah," Kim said with an embarrassed smile. "Sorry, Binx."

Her PT, Taylor Binx—whom everyone called Binx—winced as he sat up, but then waved her off with a laugh. "No permanent damage done."

"Until the next time I fall on him, that is," Kim grinned, glancing at her grandmother, who simply stared straight ahead with half-open eyes. It was hard to say if she was actually focusing on the video, or if she was just looking off into the distance, and Kim's smile faded a bit as she turned her attention back to the screen.

She continued to watch the footage closely, jotting down a few notes every now and then into the journal she decided to keep for herself. Kim would make good on her word to keep a private blog for Stark, but she also wanted a hard copy of the information for when she began to do her own supplemental research. This way, she could not only keep tabs on what occurred with her prosthetic, but also cross-reference her results with any pertinent data she uncovered from Zola's past. Would there be enough documentation on Bucky's arm to give her some insight into how her own prosthetic functioned? Would there be enough parallels in the make-up of their bionic limbs to tell how much potential her leg possibly held? Would any information she came across eventually be of any use to her? Hard to say, but she knew she had to find that out for herself.

She watched as Stark had her try the same actions a few more times, all resulting in that familiar backward-bouncing arc and, at times, the subsequent take-down of poor Binx. Surprised cries and laughter came from those witnessing her session: Sammy; seventeen-year-old Carrie-Ann Mosely, her friend and fellow amputee from Iron Wings, as well as others from their core group; even her surgeon, Dr. Bishop, had stopped by to observe her progress today, and could occasionally be seen in the background whenever the camera panned over to him.

"Alright," Stark said after another round of testing, "let's try something a little different this time, shall we?"

"And here's where it gets interesting," she muttered to herself, shifting so that she was leaning closer to the screen. Yes, this was where she needed to pay closer attention, her pen at the ready over the next blank page in her journal.

Stark was seen saying something quietly to her, then placed his hands on her shoulders to adjust her posture, and Kim could now see how they were leaning just slightly over her knees as she stood upright. He said something else to her, and when she gave an affirming nod, he backed away a few steps. "Hang back for just a sec, Binx; I want to see what happens with this first. Go ahead and try it, Kim."

Keeping her posture the way he'd positioned her, she stomped down with her right leg, and Kim remembered the gasp of surprise that had left her throat when she bounced forward this time, not back. She was so caught off-guard by the change that when she landed, she fell hard onto her side, several feet away from her original spot.

"Good! That's what I was hoping to see," Stark called out, coming back to her. "Well, not good if you're hurt, that is. You all right, kiddo?"

As her recorded image accepted the hand he offered, Kim took a moment to write down the observations she'd made. She estimated that he'd set her up at an angle slightly steeper than ninety degrees, and the change in her center of gravity had most likely resulted in the ensuing directional shift of her arc.

That would certainly explain what happens next, she thought to herself, returning her attention to the screen.

Kim flexed both legs to show she was unhurt, and there appeared to be no damage done to the prosthetic. Then Stark was talking to her privately again, and her brow furrowed as she looked at him inquisitively. A few more words passed between them until Kim nodded in agreement, and Stark went over to speak quickly to Binx, who backed away several steps after receiving his instructions.

"So let's just try it and see what happens," he took a few steps back himself. "Binx, you good?"

"Yeah, ready."

"Kimbo?"

She watched herself drop down into a more crouched position, her eyes steady on Binx, who was now on the far end of the mat from her.

"Get ready for it, Gram," she said quietly.

"Aaaand go!"

Kim started running for a few strides, then brought her right foot down with such force that she practically launched herself forward in an almost horizontal arc, her eyes wide with shock as she flew straight into an equally surprised Binx, colliding with him so hard that they collapsed in a twisted pile of limbs just beyond the mat's edge.

"Whoa, geez!" Stark yelled, accompanied by the laughs and awed noises from the other witnesses as he ran over to them. "Are you guys alright? Binx?"

"Still in one piece," he flashed a pained grin as he eased Kim up.

"Kim?"

Although a little sore from how she'd landed, Kim looked up at him with a still stunned expression. "I'm…yeah, I'm alright."

"Dang, Miss Proctor," Sammy's voice rang loud and clear through the speakers as he came into view, "you shot at him like a bullet!"

She had to let out a laugh at that. "Sure as heck felt like it," she pushed herself the rest of the way to her feet.

"That was so cool! It's, like, you were flying right at him! Way to take a hit, Binx!"

She shook her head as she smiled, checking her prosthetic with Stark for any signs of damage. Amazingly, there were none. "God, you built this thing to be strong."

"Good thing, too," he ran his hand down the calf to make sure it felt smooth. "Took a couple of hard falls, but it's nice to see that this particular alloy is holding up so well. Hey, Mike, zoom in on this for a sec, would you?"

All the while, Kim was diligently taking notes. Following that last occurrence, Stark had decided to continue testing the "bullet technique" another time, and simply had her work on getting herself to bounce forward for the remainder of their session. After several more tries—and several more bruising falls—the act itself seemed to be getting easier to achieve, even if only slightly. Remembering the discussion she'd had with him afterwards, she thought about how pleased he'd been not only with the data readouts they'd collected, but also the idea that, ultimately, such a phenomenon could be controlled with diligent practice. The next step would be to see if they could eventually get her to land without sustaining any serious injuries.

When she shifted in her seat again, she felt a mildly sore spot on her right hip, a not-so-subtle reminder of today's events. Hopefully, she'd be able to figure out some means of control before she really did hurt herself. Ignoring the pain, she continued with her writing, emphasizing how much of a role angles had played in manipulating her movements with this device. Rewinding the clip to about 7:52 on the time-tracker, she hit pause and took a moment to sketch a few pictures of her crouched appearance on-camera, being careful to differentiate the varying degrees of her posture. Perhaps this would become critical information for her later on, and perhaps she could figure some things out on her own if she kept thorough enough records.

As she finished her third sketch, she turned back to Rebecca. "So at least you got a chance to see what I was trying to explain to you. It's better to have me demonstrate it so you can get the full effect of what's going on. Hope it didn't freak you out to see me flying at Binx like that," she gave a half-smile at the silent woman as she closed her journal. "There's no way Tony will distribute this model as is, and I completely agree with him, so that means we have a lot of work ahead of us to try and figure out what's going on with it." A pause. "I'm really okay with that; we have to get this right if we're going to make it safe for everyone else to use, and..."

Her brow furrowed in thought, mulling over the conversations she'd had with Stark today, as well as the new information she'd learned about Zola's abhorrent practices. The idea that he'd inadvertently transformed her life completely hadn't escaped her mind, and so much of her couldn't help but dwell on what possibilities were going to come to light, both good and bad.

Heaving a sigh, she suddenly asked, "You want some music, Gram?" She opened the media player on her laptop and began searching for a song to play. "Might be nice to dance early tonight for a change, you know?"

Skimming through her multitude of iTune folders, she settled on one of her grandfather's favorite Frank Sinatra tunes, which she only had a digital copy of. As the smooth voice of Ol' Blue Eyes' filtered through the room, though, Kim made no move to get up and start dancing. Instead, she turned back to her grandmother, leaning upon the edge of the mattress so she could be as close to her as possible.

Pursing her lips, she suddenly found herself wanting to say over a thousand things to her, but had no idea where to even begin. "Bucky—" she choked back a gasp, not even realizing she was saying his name until she heard herself whisper it out loud. She bowed her head slightly, covering her bony hand with her own. No matter how much she wanted to protect Rebecca's heart, the need to talk to her about anything regarding Bucky was becoming more and more overwhelming with each day that passed. What would Rebecca have done if their roles were reversed, and she was the one harboring secrets about their long-lost relatives from her?

Grandma, what would you have…?

Taking a moment to re-gather her thoughts, she raised her eyes to Rebecca once more. "I hope Zola's rotting in hell." She shook her head. "I know: don't potty my mouth like that, but it's how I feel, Gram. You don't…" She swallowed. "You don't know what almost happened to your brother when he was…" The images of Trial #4 came rushing back to her, and her voice dropped to a bare whisper. "I do." Her heart clenched at the thought of what could have been; at the fact that Colonel Philips had once written a condolence letter saying that Sergeant Barnes had been killed in action in 1943, which had turned out not to be true. Grandma still had that letter; Kim had read it so many times that she could recite it from memory. "We could have lost him so much sooner if—"

No, not we, her mind challenged. She could have lost him. Back then, there was no we. You didn't even exist back then. Don't be selfish enough to think you have as much of a vested interest in him as she once did…and still does…

She slowly closed her eyes. But I do, a small voice inside her insisted, the pangs in her heart making her frown. I do…

She couldn't bring herself to go into the graphic details of what she'd seen in Zola's work. At the very least, she'd spare her grandmother that horror. "You have no idea what horrible things he did," she said quietly. She'd only seen a mere sample of the cruelty he'd inflicted upon innocent people, but when she eventually gave herself a chance to look through those files for herself, she knew she would probably have nightmares that rivaled Stark's in intensity. "So many people," she breathed. Tony worried that this prosthetic model could be abused if utilized by the wrong people, and it didn't slip her mind as to why.

She was chewing on her lower lip again, mentally chastising herself for doing so in front of her grandmother. "I don't know where this is going to lead, but I'm not the wrong kind of people. And no matter happens along the way," her chin quivered as she gently squeezed her limp hand, "I promise that I won't disappoint you again. Ever." I promise, her heart echoed, sadly but assuredly.

Rebecca said nothing. All Kim saw was the steady rise and fall of her chest, which seemed a little more rapid than usual.

For several long seconds, she just stared at her grandmother, her ears hearing the melody floating on the air, but not really listening to the lyrics that accompanied. Then her eyes squeezed shut as she debated speaking the next thought that came to mind.

How much time…? She reminded herself, then, in as quiet a whisper as she could manage, she added, "And I'm not just talking about the suicide attempt." Part of her was grateful to have the music drowning out her words, though she wished she had the courage to do more than just—

The high-pitched beep-beep-beep that suddenly pierced her ears nearly made her jump out of her seat, and as soon as Kim looked at Rebecca, she did jump up from her chair, standing so abruptly that she knocked it over backwards with a scraping thud.

Oh, God…Oh my God…

Her grandmother was convulsing uncontrollably upon the bed, her eyes rolling back into her head as her mouth fell open as broken gasps escaped her throat. The beeping of the heart monitor didn't stop, and Kim was so frozen with fear that she didn't even realize how badly she herself was trembling.

"Grandma…Grandma?" She wheezed. "J…" Tearing herself away from her bedside, Kim ran for the doorway and belted out, "Jen!" Clutching at the doorframe, she pulled a breath into her lungs and cried out again. "Jen!"

Kim was still yelling her name as Jen bounded up the stairs, her concerned eyes locking with hers. "Grandma…she…" She shook her head mutely, pointing back at her convulsing form.

As Jen had neared the room, though, she was already hearing the heart monitor, and didn't bother asking questions as she immediately went over to Rebecca's side. "Easy, Rebecca," she soothed, bending to check her eyes, "hold on, sweetheart."

While Jen took her fidgeting wrist and pressed two fingers to her vein, Kim hugged herself tightly, trying to steady her shaking hands as she watched Jen checked her grandmother's vitals. Christ, what's happening? What's wrong with her? She wanted to ask so many questions, but in her terrified state, the ability to speak didn't exist in this moment. The incessant beeping of the monitor still filled her ears, and then her vision began to blur as unshed tears filled her eyes…

"Kim," she snapped to attention when Jen spoke. "Listen to me," she said with surprising calmness, and even though a few tears slid down her cheeks, Kim forced herself to listen. "I'm going to give you a number to call, and I want you to tell them that this is Jen Hayes, and then I'll give you my ID number when they ask for it…"

As Jen tended to Rebecca, Kim took out her iPhone and followed her instructions, pressing trembling fingers to the screen as she dialed the number and brought the receiver to her ear. It only rang twice before the dispatcher answered, and despite how shaky her voice was, she managed to recite the information Jen had given her.

The ambulance had arrived no more than ten minutes later. With her back against the wall, Kim stood just outside her grandmother's room, listening quietly as Jen and the other two Hospice EMTs assisted her in stabilizing the elder woman. Every now and then, she caught snippets of their conversation, and when she heard their conclusion as to what had occurred, her eyes went wide as her heart sank deeper and deeper into her stomach.

Oh my God, she slid down to the floor, tears running hotly down her face as she her mind reprocessed what they were saying. No, she'd heard them right the first time, and her shoulders started to heave as she breathed. That sense of dread had returned to her, more overwhelming than it had ever been before, and it was a feeling that terrified her straight to the core.

Oh God, Grandma, she thought despairingly as a sob escaped her lips. What did I do…?

She wasn't sure how or when her fingers had found her phone again, but her thumb had automatically hit a button for speed dial, and she sniffed audibly as she waited, resting her head in one hand while the phone rang dully in her ear.

By the third ring, Steve answered, his voice already full of concern. "You never call first unless it's urgent. What is it, Kim?"

She was sobbing into the phone at the utterance of his first word. Wave after wave of sorrow rushed through her, temporarily preventing her from forming any kind of response as the tears continued to flow.

"Kim," he repeated, slipping instantly into brother-mode as he listened to her, and so much of her suddenly wished he could sweep her into his arms and hold her tightly to him at that very moment.

"Steve—" She choked on another sob, coughing harshly.

"Is it Rebecca?"

Sucking in a gasping breath, she was finally able to hoarsely whisper, "Grandma had another stroke."