Hello again everybody. Thank you all for your kind words about my loss, especially to Hannah1704 and racheo91 for your lovely reviews. I thought it would be a while before my next update but as it turns out, everything had already been arranged when I arrived at my nan's and so other than helping to cook dinner, there isn't much else to do but write. As a result, I have written the last 10 chapters to this story, which will bring the total chapters to 27. There's a lot more ups and downs for Beth, Steve and Bucky to experience in this story, and I hope you enjoy.

I will aim to update at least once a week, possibly more, but not too often as I want to give myself time to write the next instalment, which has about 3 of 20+ chapters completed so far. I'll keep you informed of any progress as I go. For now, enjoy the latest chapter!

...

October 12th 1943, Azzano, Italy

Everything hurt. Despite being in more pain than he'd ever experienced in his life, he didn't complain. Pain meant he wasn't dead. All around him he could hear the cries and screams of his fellow soldiers and he couldn't help but wonder how many of them would end up on Beth's table. He prayed he didn't as it would break his promise to her and he didn't think he could cope with doing that to her. Thinking of her bought a renewed energy to him, then new surge of adrenaline allowing him to push himself to his knees despite his chest burning with every breath he took.

"You alright there, Jimmy?"

He clenched his teeth, glaring at his comrade. He'd met Dum Dum Duggan three days earlier, and the brash man had decided he would be called Jimmy, despite Bucky's protests and pleas. For a moment, he considered shooting the other man, but decided against it. He'd seen too much bloodshed to add to it.

"I'm fine Duggan, just focus on yourself!" he yelled back.

They dropped into a ditch together, joining a small group of soldiers already taking refuge there. The group gave each other welcoming nods, resigning themselves to their fate as the gunfire from their side grew steadily quieter. Suddenly, it fell silent and Bucky lifted his head out to see what was happening. His eyes widened as new forces from the enemy moved into view, their tanks and weapons firing mysterious blue rays that left nothing behind of the soldiers they targeted. As the troops drew nearer, he cast his rifle aside and reached into his pocket to look at the picture he carried with him one last time. His eyes turned glassy as they took in his best friend and soulmate grinning up at him. He memorised their features, embedding the image in his mind before reaching down to place the photo in the pocket of a fallen comrade. He wasn't about to give the enemy any of his weaknesses or any more potential targets. The enemy's troops began to bare down on them and he squeezed his eyes shut, praying for a quick death and begging for Beth to be okay and move on from him to find happiness when she found out about his death.

October 14th 1943, Army Base, Italy

Beth was used to it now- the lack of sleep, the constant adrenaline rush and above all, the seemingly endless death surrounding her. For every patient she saved, she lost another eight, but she carried on, telling herself that even one life saved was one less family that had to grieve. It helped keep her sane, especially as she hadn't seen or heard from Bucky since her return to London four months earlier, excepting a single note he'd left on her pillow that stated his love for her, asking her to stay strong. As for her brother, though he wrote to her often, he was never in one place long enough for her replies to reach him in time now he'd been dubbed 'Captain America' and starred in his own stage show. So far, she had managed to stay strong, but as she stepped outside to see five trucks pull up carrying at least fifty wounded soldiers, she felt the strength begin to waver.

"What happened to them?" she asked Dr Edward Hicks, who had gone from being her supervisor to one of her closest friends.

"There was a battle at Azzano. Only these men made it out alive. Virtually the whole of 103rd and 107th are gone, along with some British and French men."

She froze, her body shutting down. Edward looked over at her, worried by her reaction.

"These are the only survivors?" she forced herself to ask.

"That we know of, yes. Are you okay?"

He reached out to touch her arm and she jerked at the contact. Her throat constricted, her breathing labouring and from the months of experience, she knew she was about to have a panic attack. Edward also noticed but before he could force her to take a seat, she shook herself and returned her composure, her eyes settling on the vans. He knew from the way her face became almost inhumanly calm that there was something very wrong with the young woman, but he also knew her well enough not to ask.

"We'd best get started." She stated, her voice devoid of emotion.

She spent the next two days on her feet, moving on autopilot as she tended to soldier after soldier. She knew she had to stop, but every time she tried, she felt herself begin to break and each time, it got harder and harder to claw herself back. Both Josh and Edward grew increasingly worried, but she simply avoided them whenever they tried to speak to her. By the third morning, Beth knew she was ready to keel over, but she still forced herself to keep going, too afraid to ask any of the men if they knew the status of Sergeant James Barnes.

"How long has it been since you slept? You look like a wild animal."

Beth spun to face the owner of the voice to see a vaguely familiar woman standing behind her, a frown on her face as she observed the dishevelled state of the medic. It took a moment for her brain to realise she was the woman who'd arrived with Steve at the lab back in New York.

"No offence, but I really don't have time to stop." She said, continuing to write notes on the chart in her arms.

A pale hand reached out to still her own and she glared at the woman.

"Look, I don't know who you are, but you are really starting to overstep here. You need to…"

"I don't need to do anything Elizabeth, but you need to stop because I can see you're barely holding it together right now and if you don't stop, you're going to end up making a mistake and killing someone."

Beth sighed, allowing the woman to take the pen from her.

"Who are you?"

The woman smiled at her, brown eyes crinkling at the corners, her red lips a stark contrast to her pale skin.

"Peggy Carter. I'm an agent with the SSR and a friend of both Howard Stark and your brother."

"You were at the lab when Steve got the serum." Beth said, remembering the way the English woman had paced her hand on Steve's chest as he all but fell from the capsule.

"I was. I oversaw Steve's training and helped pick him for the programme. He is a remarkable man."

Beth didn't fail to see the fondness in the agent's eyes, but couldn't bring herself to smile. At the mention of her brother, she forced herself to swallow the pain inside once again.

"Why are you pushing yourself so hard? You should slow down; you need a break." The agent said.

"I can't. there's too many injured men needing help right now."

Peggy waved her hand, showing the room to be empty.

"You've treated them all. You can stop."

"I can't. there's checks, charts, medication, cleaning, much more to do."

"The nurses can take care of all that. You should sleep."

Beth finally snapped, spinning to face the agent with watering eyes.

"I CAN'T!"

Peggy stepped forward to grasp the blonde's shoulders.

"Why not?" she asked, her voice gentle.

Beth broke, unable to hold the tears back any longer.

"Because every man that has come through this tent is a part of the 107th regiment and not one of them was Bucky! If I stop, it means I've given up hope that he's alive. If I stop, I've as good as abandoned him! I. Can't. S…st…st…"

She broke down, Peggy gathering her into an embrace. As she held Beth, she looked over to see Edward watching them and mouthed 'sedative' to him. He nodded and came over, injecting Beth with the clear liquid before she knew what was happening. She looked up at the sharp pain, betrayal in her eyes as she fell asleep.

…

When she woke the next morning, Beth groaned, clutching her head. She sat up, the world spinning as she took in her bearings and realised she was in her tent.

"I have water and painkillers."

Slowly, she moved her head to look at the brunette holding out a small glass and two white pills. Beth took them gratefully and sighed as the cool liquid hit her throat.

"I'm sorry I asked Edward to do that to you, but you were on the verge of a complete breakdown and it was the only way to make you sleep." Peggy said, before Beth could open her mouth.

Beth gave a sigh and sat back on the bed, indicating for Peggy to take a seat.

"It's okay. I knew I was heading that way but it was easier to keep going than to think that Bucky…"

She broke off, her eyes straying to the photo she kept on her nightstand of herself, Steve and Bucky, the two males with an arm each round her. Peggy placed a hand on one of Beth's, smiling compassionately.

"You can't give up hope. We have reports that a number of soldiers were actually taken prisoner, so he may still be alive."

Beth gave a jerky nod, reaching up to wipe her eyes. When she looked back at Peggy, her usual strength was back in her gaze.

"You're right. Besides, I would know if he died. I'd feel it."

Peggy nodded, standing from the bed and reaching out a hand. When Beth took it, she was pulled to her feet and ordered to dress. As she moved to her dresser, she gave the English woman a questioning look.

"May I ask why you're here?"

"The SSR is setting a base up here. We're trying to track down a group called HYDRA that is being led by a man named Johann Schmidt, and we think he's based near here."

"Oh. I actually meant my tent and why you sought me out."

Peggy blushed slightly and Beth gave a chuckle.

"I know how much Steve cares for you. He was always talking about you and Bucky and how proud he was that you're one of the first female medics in the army. I promised him I'd keep an eye on you if I ever saw you and I like to keep my promises."

Beth gave her a scrutinising look and Peggy looked away uncomfortably.

"You care for him, don't you?" she asked, seeing the same look on the agent's face she knew she had when talking about Bucky.

"Greatly." Peggy admitted after a pregnant pause.

Beth walked up to the woman and Peggy was surprised to find herself pulled into a hug.

"Thank you."

Beth's words held a weight to them that threatened to unravel Peggy, so she stepped out of the embrace and cleared her throat.

"I understand you're talented as a medic and Dr Hicks has been in talks to train you to be a surgeon, but how would you like to become talented in other skills?"

Beth raised an eyebrow.

"Like what?"

October 27th 1943, Army base, Italy

She wished she hadn't asked as yet another fist hit her face. Raising her hand to wipe away the blood, she glared up at the other woman.

"Do you have to hit quite so hard?" she complained.

"Well I hardly think the enemy would hold back their punches because you're a girl."

Without warning, Beth swung her leg out, catching Peggy by the back of the knees and sending the agent crashing to the ground, a gun pointed at her head a second later.

"Bang. You're dead. You're also right, they wouldn't hold back." She grinned, noting the astonishment on the brunette's face.

Peggy's own lips quirked up in response and she chuckled, accepting the hand Beth held out to her. behind them, somebody began clapping and they both turned to see Colonel Philips standing there. Peggy quickly brushed the dust from her clothes and saluted him.

"Colonel" she greeted.

"Hi." Beth said, smoothing her hair back from her face.

The colonel looked from one female to the other, his face impassive.

"Agent Carter, go clean yourself up." He ordered.

Peggy hurried out of the tent, casting a supportive glance over her shoulder at Beth. The colonel waited until Peggy had gone before turning his attention to an obviously nervous Beth.

"That was quite impressive. You should think about changing specialities, we'd be happy for another woman in the SSR."

"Thank you sir, but I like being a medic. Hicks has even suggested putting me forward for a surgical programme so I can be a fully trained surgeon."

The Colonel couldn't help but smile at the eagerness on her face, but it didn't last for long as he knew the next thing he said would greatly ruin her mood.

"Miss Rogers, I have some news."

Beth stopped reaching for her glass of water and slowly looked up at him.

"No, you don't, because he isn't dead."

It was no news that the young woman was stubborn and extraordinarily loyal to her brother and partner, but he was surprised by this level of defiance.

"I'm sorry, but I do, and it isn't good."

He reached into his pocket, drawing out a crumpled piece of paper and held it out to Beth. With trembling hands, she took it, one hand reaching up to her mouth as she laid eyes on the smiling faces of Steve and herself staring up at her.

"This was found in the jacket of one of our soldiers. There was no other identification on him, but he had brown hair, blue eyes and his jacket had sergeant stripes on the shoulders."

Her breath hitched, but Beth didn't cry. She held the photo against her chest and squeezed her eyes shut.

"No. he isn't dead. He probably planted it on another soldier because he didn't want the enemy knowing about us. He's alive, I just know it."

The colonel shook his head at her refusal to accept the truth. She saw the look of worry in his eyes and narrowed her own.

"I know I'm being both delusional and irrational, however, if I let myself believe he's gone, I will break down and you will have to send me home when right now, you need every medic you've got."

He studied her for a moment, realising that he had the same reluctant admiration for her as he did her brother. The strength in both of them was unlike anything he'd ever seen and it was the only reason he gave her a brief nod, accepting her words. He left the tent and Beth moved her gaze to the picture, trying to ignore the fact the soldier Philips had described sounded like Bucky. Her hand clenched, crumpling the image further.

"He isn't dead."