A/N: Wow, only two months? That's got to be a record.

So the way this story works, there are essentially two parts. Part One ends with the next chapter. Can't say for sure when that will be up, but I'm shooting for sometime in November. Hope to see you there and I hope you enjoy this chapter!

For two days, she didn't leave the bunk. Peggy met all sympathetic well-wishers at the door and promised to relay their messages to Jane when she woke up. Food was left three times a day for her to pick at. Occasionally she'd take a bite and keep it down. Other times the peas and potatoes became lodged in her throat as she cried. The plates would clatter to the floor, spraying mushy vegetables everywhere. She'd curl into a ball, hugging a pillow that couldn't hug her back, with a blanket that wasn't warm draped over her head. Nothing ever helped. Even when she slept, it was only temporary.

Her dreams were filled with snow and fire and New Mexico and Bucky. They'd sit on her roof by the firepit, her in her plaid and him in his uniform. While she talked about constellations, he told her she was beautiful. That was his answer to everything.

"I wonder if Andromeda is in view tonight. You'd like that one."

"You're beautiful."

Because the subconscious mind can only recreate reality so well.

And because she'd always hoped he'd like her in her father's old shirts and her blue jeans.

Peggy never tried to talk to her. On the first day, she'd given Jane permission to rest for an hour or so, and that break time had yet to end. Steve came by once, starting and stopping a dozen sentences before he gave up and drifted away. The rest of the team stopped at her door when they could. Dernier whispered condolences in broken English. Dugan tried to tell jokes but kept forgetting the punchlines. None of them tried to coax her out. They all knew better. It would be a busy week. Planning an attack on HYDRA, interrogating Zola, making arrangements to send Bucky's personal effects back to his family. The family Jane would never meet.

"Did you tell them about me?" she asked the wall. It didn't look anything like him. "I don't think they would've liked me…no one likes a liar..."

Day three saw her in Peggy's office. When her eyes opened and all that met her was the musty, lonely bunkroom, her brain went into overdrive. Sadly, three days was not enough time for her leg muscles to atrophy. She was at her desk, remote in hand when Peggy returned from the morning briefing.

Jane didn't look at her. The box-shaped metal was cool in her stiff hands, heavy with wires and rusting screws. The screen was blank, green with faded numbers. Her finger rested on the button, stroking the plastic with a feather-light touch. It would've looked nice in pieces on the floor, or frozen in a block of ice outside.

"Jane," Peggy said, dropping her coat on her desk instead of hanging it neatly on the rack. "I… wasn't expecting you."

She didn't ask if Jane was all right. Thank God. If she had, Jane might've thrown something. "You know, the first time I fell in love, I was seven. I had this music teacher, I don't even remember his name anymore. But he was the most handsome man I'd ever seen in my life. Like a Disney Prince. I used to try so hard to sing in tune and get every note on the recorder all so he'd like me. I was so sure one day he'd love me back and we'd live happily ever after." Jane chuckled to herself. "I didn't even care that he was in his thirties and married."

Peggy started to smile. "We all have those little crushes."

"Yeah, we do," said Jane. She spun the half extended antenna. "We have crushes, and then we grow up and we realize relationships are more than just liking someone. You need to work at it. Things take time to develop. Compatibility, patience, they're so important. They're everything. You can't just…"

The remote fell into her lap. Jane dropped her head in her sweat-glazed hands. Chills ran through her already trembling body. Bucky's tags around her neck jangled. The silver band on her finger pressed into her temple, but she felt no pain. Whatever she'd been trying to say was beyond her now. Her chair squeaked as she bent over. A humanoid shadow appeared over her head, but even when Peggy took her by the arms, Jane couldn't look up.

"Jane, listen to me," she said, with all the care of a mother, "you made him so happy. I don't think you realize just how much. I'd see him after missions. He'd be… shaken, disturbed, frightened even. But as soon as someone said your name, all the pain would wash away. He was all smiles when you were around. Steve said it was like they never left Brooklyn."

Jane took a breath, filling her lungs with as much air as they would allow. "He told me… I made him feel like himself again. And he wanted to do the same thing for me."

"I think he did," Peggy said, squeezing her arm gently. "I know he did."

"He did." Jane croaked, pulling out of Peggy's grasp and moving around her. "But he shouldn't have. I should never have been in this situation. This isn't like when I was in college and I'd see the same guy at a bunch of parties and want to go talk to him. Starting a relationship with him, what did it mean? My weekends were a little busier, I had someone to call when I was pissed and needed to vent. That was real. There was no fairy tale with me and Don. When we broke up, it wasn't even dramatic. We agreed it wasn't working and that was it. That was real. There's not supposed to be the fate of the future on the line! I'm a scientist. I'm supposed to be smarter than this."

"Jane-" Peggy walked towards her, arms out like she thought Jane was about to do something she'd regret. She might've been right. The remote was too sturdy for her to break it barehanded, but that wall was looking pretty good.

"But I'm here." She touched the calendar, tracing the year 1944 and the circled dates. Peggy had a meeting with Senator Somethingorother at four and dinner with General Whatshisname at seven. "I'm in the past, and it's real. And I loved him so much, and that was real. So what the hell do I know about reality?"

Jane dragged herself back to her desk. To the mess of papers she'd never cleaned and the nameplate, restored to its proper place by a hand that wasn't hers. Peggy didn't stop her or try to offer comfort. She just watched. She seemed to realize it was all she could do.

"I guess I'm not as smart as I thought I was," Jane said, fingering the power button once more. "My life, my work, the future… I was ready to give it all up just for the chance of having a life with him. That one chance was worth losing everything."

Jane cradled the remote to her chest, Peggy hovering in the corner just out of sight. It was hard to say what she was thinking. Jane couldn't bring herself to meet the other woman's eye. She only knew when Peggy figured it out from her tiny hitch of breath. "You fixed it… you fixed it, didn't you?"

Jane didn't flinch at her tone. Whatever fear of admonition she once had was long gone. "Back in August. Every time I wanted to tell you, I couldn't get the words out. Every day, I thought about going home less and less. I had work and friends. Howard, Steve, you… and I had Bucky. I've had more of a life here than I ever did at home."

"Jane…" Peggy leaned forward, and Jane moved back. Affection would be nice, but not from Peggy. Jane didn't deserve it from her. "I understand. I do."

She didn't, but she would. "The worst part is, even if I'd known I couldn't have told him. You can't change the past… I don't even have a picture with him."

"He never asked?"

"All the time," Jane's shoulders shook. "I told him I was camera shy."

Whatever force had maintained her composure before, it was broken. Jane curled up in her chair, crying openly and without shame, her brain pounding desperately against her skull. All she knew was pain and numbness. One couldn't cancel out the other. There was something safe about this room, something familiar. She never would've cried like this in front of Darcy, or even Erik. Peggy's presence was a boon on her mental state, even as her lies by omission warred with the grief in her heart.

"So what now?" Peggy asked like she dreaded the answer.

Jane rubbed her eyes. "I can't stay. I know that now. I have to go back where I belong."

Peggy recoiled, a move so subtle and removed from her usual stoic disposition that anyone who spent one day less with her than Jane had wouldn't have caught it. She knew what it was, and immediately regretted her choice of words. "Then this is it. You're leaving."

Outside, it was snowing again. The forecast called for at least another foot. Thick clouds masked the sun and created near darkness in the middle of the day. Jane stared out the foggy glass at the only searchlight for miles. It was too bright, but she couldn't look away. "Almost," she said.

"Almost," Peggy repeated. "What does that mean?"

Jane stood up straighter. "I used to think this was all a bad dream and one day I'd wake up, but it's not a dream, Peggy. I can't just close my eyes and make it go away. All I can do is finish it." She fixed Peggy with a look of resolve. Her eyes were red but dry. Bucky would've been proud. "There's one more thing we have to do."

When she thought about it later, stealing a cargo truck and entering an active warzone was the third stupidest thing she'd ever done.

Driving into a tornado and grazing a Norse god with her truck was not on that list because look where that misadventure had gotten her. Jane could dwell on it more, but keeping her eyes on the road and not getting shot was probably a better use of her time. She only knew the plan secondhand. Once again, Phillips would not allow a secretary into his top-secret meeting room. Even as he turned Jane away with an almost grandfatherly pat on the back, he was firm in his reasoning. She was a pencil pusher and a technical civilian. She didn't need this.

Jane agreed because Peggy was just going to tell her later anyway. Indeed, she got the full run down that night before bed, along with a firm lecture on the distinction between an explanation and an invitation.

"This is only because you deserve to know," Peggy said sternly. "You can't come with us or sneak into battle or do anything I know you're already thinking of doing."

"Of course I won't," Jane had replied. "Wouldn't dream of it."

That was how she ended up tearing through a thicket of trees and bowling over as many HYDRA bastards as possible.

The Howling Commandos were on the ground, escorting Steve into the hangar. Jane listened as best she could over the radio, but the signal was weak. Every now and then she got a burst of clear transmission. Steve was en route. Red Skull was about to take off in the Valkyrie. They'd gotten past the enemy blockade. Phillips and Peggy had him. They were closing in on the ship.

"Hang on," Phillips muttered so that neither of his passengers was likely to hear. There was a burst of distortion. He'd opened up the throttle. Howard would be happy to know his modifications to the engine where successful.

Jane took that as her cue to speed up. She knocked a man with a cannon into a tree. "Everything's looking good out here, sir."

A moment of silence before Peggy snorted and Phillips cursed. "Miss Cinderhouse, if that's you, we're going to have a long talk when this is over."

"Noted. Steve?"

"Yes!"

Her voice caught in her throat. She forgot where she was going and narrowly missed hitting a tree. Coming back to herself, she ran through all the things she wished she could say. There was so much, and the only thing that made sense was 'I'm sorry,' but she couldn't say that either. "W-work hard."

She all but felt his smile. "I will."

Jane shut the walkie off. Without it was only nominal silence as she broke through another wall of bushes. She didn't know what he'd say to Peggy before jumping on board. Maybe they'd kiss or exchange 'I love yous'. If they did it would be about time.

(It would be the only time.)

She rammed into a man covered head to toe in body armor. He'd probably survive the blow and if so, that broken spine would do him some good. She jumped out of the driver's seat, first aid kit in hand. A pair of soldiers covered her, taking out enemies foolish enough not to take cover. There was a man resting against a tree, awake but dazed. His arm was soaked in blood, a scrap of cloth haphazardly tied around the wound.

Jane looked into his eyes and couldn't help but smile. It might not have been right, but any disdain she once had for this man was long gone. Vanished alongside his unearned swagger. "How are you, Hodge?" she asked.

He shrugged as best he could with his good arm. "Been better. Thinking about home…"

His eyes watered and he turned away. So he did have a bit of that macho attitude left. Jane allowed him a moment as she cleaned and dressed the wound. It wasn't too deep and most likely wouldn't leave a scar. Jane would say he was lucky, but she knew better. "It'll be over soon. I promise."

"I hope you're right," he said. He sucked in air, rubbing the dirt and dried blood from his nose. The battle raged on around them, slowing down as they overtook HYDRA's forces and cleared a path for the rest of the battalion to make their exit. If Hodge wanted to rejoin, he wasn't making much of an effort. He looked at Jane with those sad eyes, hands wringing together for lack of anything else to do. "I'm sorry about Sergeant Barnes. He was a good guy."

Jane's jaw clenched. She waited out the stabbing in her chest before she answered. "Thank you."

The earth rumbled beneath their feet. Men fought to keep their balance as, in the distance, a massive bird-shaped ship took to the air. It ascended faster than any aircraft of it's time, there and gone in seconds, traversing miles in the time it took Jane to take a breath. The reaction was twofold. Some men threw down their weapons, worried they'd been too late and all their efforts had been for nothing. Still others had faith in the captain. They whooped and cheered and danced with unbridled glee. Soon, more men joined them. Their applause followed Steve into the heavens, while Jane silently watched the clouds roll by.

She gave a salute, just like a real soldier. "See you soon."

Nobody stopped her on her way to mission control. Men in decorated uniforms nodded as she passed and didn't bother her about security clearance. A fellow she vaguely recognized as one of Phillips' inner circle nearly tripped over himself avoiding her. It was a clear path from the main entrance to the center of the compound. Jane had never before made the trip alone, but her feet guided her through gaping doorways and down winding corridors.

There was blood on her sleeves from the wounded soldiers and dirt caked under her nails. Her stockings were full of holes from kneeling in rock beds. The hem of her skirt was frayed and ruined. Adrenaline left over from the battle buzzed in her blood and bones, pushing her onward. Pain was a faraway concept. Whatever that tingling in her knees was or the ache in her neck, she could deal with it later.

Phillips and Morita were outside, ashy and staring at fixed points. Morita tried to smile at Jane, but his mouth wouldn't work. He made a sound at the back of his throat that was either an attempt to speak or a sob. Jane reached for his hand but missed, and she couldn't stop moving. Phillips nodded at her, eyes on his feet. The imposing power that seemed to emanate from his very being was absent, and for the first time, it hit Jane just how old he was.

"Ma'am," he said.

"Colonel," she replied.

The door was unlocked. Peggy was the only one left inside. The other agents would be off celebrating their victory and mourning their losses. She sat before a blinking control panel and a radio set to white noise. Moments ago, Steve's voice was on the other end. Jane didn't have to ask to know that. She wouldn't ask what they had said to each other either. Some things were just too personal.

Jane found an empty chair and waited for Peggy to see her. Fat tears rolled down her cheeks. She didn't hitch a breath or sob, blow her nose or scream his name. Jane envied her control even in the worst of times. It was like she could handle anything. A voice in her head told her she was wrong, this wasn't control. Not the kind that came from true strength of will. In its own way, Peggy's silence was as devastated and broken as all the times Jane woke up crying Bucky's name. She touched her ring. It had been in her pocket while she cleaned up the injured men and her finger had felt stripped to the bone without it.

Her hand moved of its own volition, stopping over Peggy's and settling. Peggy looked at her. The burning rage Jane had spent almost two years waiting for didn't come. Instead, she just looked lost, dazed, tired. She let Jane lead her out of the control room, past Phillips and Morita and the rest of the men and women whose names Jane never let herself learn. Together they made the trek down the spiraling hall, through throngs of injured men shaking off their latest trauma, all the way back to the bunk room where they both slept through Reveille.

For the next three days, Jane didn't know rest. Every waking moment was paperwork and meetings and visits from senators and more paperwork and condolence letters and conference calls and more paperwork and coffee. So much coffee. Eating was saved for those precious minutes in between transcribing letters. Jane would sneak into the mess hall, pile her plate high with mashed potatoes and then stare at the melting white blob while a brick settled over her stomach. Peggy took all meals in her office now, so Jane sat alone. Men would whisper when they thought she couldn't hear, but no one dared come over. It was an irony Jane didn't fail to miss. Finally, finally, she was invisible.

On the fourth day, it rained, while Jane and Peggy sat around the office. There was no work left for them to do. Peggy's next meeting was on Tuesday and assuming she didn't get called for another memorial service or interview in the meantime, that left them with hours to listen to the creaks and groans of an aging building, peel chipped paint off the furniture, and think. About the smudge on the window and the number of pencils on her desk (seven) and how every voice she heard almost sounded like Bucky. Every dark, hulking shadow almost looked like Steve's. The remote was on her desk and it almost seemed to scream at her.

Peggy scribbled on a piece of paper, though she had nothing to write. It kept her busy until she ran out of room on the page. The pen stopped moving and slipped out of her hand. "Did you know?"

Jane was in the middle of picking a hangnail and scratched herself all the way down her thumb. She looked up and was instantly caught in Peggy's dead-eyed stare.

"Did you?" she asked again.

She seemed to plead with Jane, begging for reassurance no one could give. It was something the old Jane would've avoided at all costs. Heart to hearts were never her strong suit. New Jane got up from her desk and knelt at Peggy's feet. "I swear, if I could've told you, I would've."

Peggy closed her eyes and Jane feared this was it. She braced herself for the onslaught and got nothing in return but a world-weary sigh. "You can't change the past." Peggy reached for Jane, hesitated, then folded her arms. "Thank you for staying."

Jane smiled. "I'd never leave you like that."

Peggy nodded, her lip trembling. "But you do have to leave, don't you?"

It was a question they both knew the answer to, but that didn't make it hurt any less. "I think so."

There were more creaks, more ticks, a man stopped outside to pick up something he dropped, muttering in Russian all the while. Peggy buried her face in her hands. She was so still like she'd fallen asleep. Then Jane blinked and she was pacing, all despondency replaced with a drive to act.

"All right," she said, "let's hop to it. First, we'll need a plan."

She walked the storage cabinet to grab a fresh pad of paper. Her old one was now half notes, half scribbles.

"Peggy," Jane said, sounding far timider than she'd hoped.

"I'm sure you have several ideas already on the back burner. Feel free to throw out whatever you like."

"Peggy, I'm so sor-"

"Don't." Peggy held a hand in her face. "Please don't. Just tell me the plan."

Jane would've shied away and not said another word, but she understood. Peggy needed the distraction. Having an objective, any objective, was the only thing holding her together. It was a feeling Jane knew all too well. "Okay, my remote should be fully functional and able to connect with the unit back in my time, so theoretically, all I have to do is reactivate the device and it'll automatically sync up with the mainframe."

Peggy stopped writing. "That's it?"

"That's it," Jane shrugged.

"You press the button and you're back."

"I could give you a more in-depth explanation, but I'm still a little outside my comfort zone here."

"No, that's fine." Peggy went for her coffee, drinking it all in one gulp. A sour odor wafted in Jane's face, making her wonder just how much of that was actually coffee. "It sounds lovely in fact. For a while, I thought we'd be breaking into a submarine to repurpose their torpedo system."

Jane snorted. "That won't be necessary. We do have one problem, though."

"Which is?"

Jane tapped her chin, sliding back into her 'scientist' role like a pair of warm socks. "If I had to guess, it was an internal error coupled with the lightning storm that caused the time disturbance. In 2011, there's a town called Puente Antiguo where that base is. I landed exactly where my lab will be built one day, which means the prototype only changed my temporal location, not my physical one."

"So if you were to turn on the remote and go back right now…" Peggy supplied.

"I'd have to explain to my intern how I got from New Mexico to New Jersey in under an hour," Jane finished.

"Meaning first we need a way to get you back to that base."

"Yeah," Jane mumbled, pushing papers off her desk so she could lean on it properly. "That's the hard part."

"Indeed it is." The cheerful male voice at the door- which was open now so when the hell had that happened?- dragged Jane kicking and screaming out of the familiar fog of astrophysical brainstorming. All that hyper-focus was redirected to the man ambling inside as though he'd finally convinced Congress to sell him the base. "If only you had a suave, handsome, filthy rich friend with over five thousand hours of flight time and ready access to a private jet. Would make your little predicament so much easier, wouldn't it?"

"Howard!" Jane squeaked. She coughed into her hand and gave him something resembling a grin. "I- I mean, good afternoon, Howard. Lovely day we're having, isn't it? We were just…" He kept smirking at her. Smirking! The rat bastard. "I mean uh… how much of that did you hear?"

"Enough to know that accent is faker than Brandt's toupee," Howard said, winking at her. "You can drop it now, sweetheart, the jig is up."

Jane's entire body sagged. She could hardly bring herself to move as Peggy stepped in front of her. "Howard, I don't think you understand what's happening here."

"Peg, you're good, but I'm afraid you're not that good." He turned to Jane, observing her like another mysterious artifact in his lab. "I always knew there was something funny about you. You're too damn smart to be just another errand girl. I used to think, 'She's gotta be a defector. Witness protection or a deep cover assignment, but time traveler? Now that, even in my most inebriated state of being, I never would've guessed."

"Howard, you cannot tell anyone about this," Jane said, taking him by his lapels. "I mean it."

"Relax, my lips are sealed." Howard mimed locking his mouth and throwing away the key. "I know better than to betray a fellow scientist. Now, Ms…. Cinderhouse?"

"Foster," Jane said, glancing at Peggy, who could only nod her head. "Doctor Jane Foster of astrophysics."

He beamed like a proud parent and shook her hand. "Pleasure to meet you, Doctor. Let's get you home."

First, they packed Jane's things. It wasn't hard. She had barely enough to fill one duffel bag. Peggy dug her old clothes out of the bottom of her closet and stored them with her spare uniforms, notebooks, and shoes. Five minutes and they were ready to go.

The flight felt even shorter. Peggy helped Jane strap in after giving Howard the coordinates. They took off as the sun began to set. Jane passed the time staring out the window, watching Camp Lehigh get smaller as they ascended into the clouds. She had said goodbye to no one. She didn't know what excuse Peggy gave Phillips and she didn't care. Dugan and Jones and Falsworth and Morita and Dernier, they'd be at the bar right now toasting to their lost friends. What would they say when they got back and she was gone? Would they even notice?

'Yes,' said her unhelpful inner voice. 'Of course they will. You were their friend, too.'

'Shut up,' Jane told it. 'Just shut the fuck up.'

The plane hit the sandy ground half a mile from the base and bounced along another hundred feet. Jane and Peggy clung to each other as they were all but thrown out of their seats. Jane's seatbelt dug into her neck and that was definitely going to leave a mark. Exactly what she needed.

"Sorry about that!" Howard yelled over the dying engine as they came to rest next to a large rock half-buried in the sand. "Not a very good landing ground out here."

"As long as we're not dead, I think we're good," said Jane.

Peggy and Howard waited outside for Jane to get changed. The white undershirt still smelled like microwave nachos. Her old jeans fit strangely, the rough fabric taking shape around her legs like they'd been glued on. They itched and stretched when she moved, making her wince. To think, she'd have to get used to wearing pants again.

"Is that how women dress in the twenty-first century?" Howard asked, making a face at her plaid shirt and worn sneakers. Her hair was all over the place.

"It's how I dress," Jane said. "I don't know about anyone else."

They began their trek through the desert. It was dark, but the stars were out in droves. The lights from the once-thriving base were noticeably absent. Peggy told her on the way there that it wasn't currently in use. A new one had sprung up fifty miles due south. It worked in their favor. There was no one around to ask any awkward questions or accidentally spot her vanishing into spacetime.

Together they formed a straight line. Jane in the middle, Howard on the right, Peggy on the left. The moon lit their way. That and the lantern Howard helpfully provided. A tumbleweed rolled by as the wind picked up. The chill didn't bother Jane like it used to. It would help her prepare for what she was going back to.

"Are you sure this is going to work?" asked Peggy.

"Of course I am," said Jane. "One hundred percent."

"There's no such thing as one hundred percent sure in science, Jane," Howard interjected. "And if I'm saying that, you know it's true. Pushing a button and going to the future is just kind of a stretch."

"Occam's Razor, Howard," Jane replied. "The simplest solution is always the best one."

"I don't think William of Ockham had time travel in mind when he said that."

"It will work." Jane sped up, breaking from the group. They were almost there and she could feel the rain on her skin, the shock of electric current coursing through her as the gravel under her feet melted away. That mirror image of herself watching her sink into the unknown. "It already has."

Up ahead was a soft incline, creating a sand dune barely visible to the naked eye. It was like terrain itself had offered her a launch pad. She stopped in front of it, barely three steps short. Howard and Peggy waited for her to make a move.

She turned to face them. "I guess this is it."

"Guess so," said Howard, clapping her on the shoulder. "In about seventy years?"

Jane swallowed. "Yeah, of course."

Howard's smile turned somber. "You hesitated."

"I… well, I-"

"It's okay," he said, like it actually was. "We all gotta go sometime."

His hand tightened and the next thing Jane knew, she was in his arms. His cologne smelled fresh, woodsy. Very Howard. She hugged him back. "I'm going to miss you."

"Ah, you'll forget me in a week," he said, pulling away. If she didn't know any better, she'd say his eyes were wet. "You kick some ass over there, got it?"

He let go, but she held his hand a moment longer. "Anthony is a great name."

Howard smiled. "I'll keep that in mind."

He turned away, giving Jane and Peggy a measure of privacy. Peggy looked at Jane, and Jane looked back at Peggy. Jane opened her mouth, but then so did Peggy. Jane pulled her sleeves over her elbows and scratched her arm. "I forgot how uncomfortable this shirt can be."

Peggy nodded. "I imagine it'll take some getting used to."

"Yeah," Jane agreed. Her free hand delved into her pocket. The lint and old key that didn't go to anything were still there. Like no time had passed at all. "You know, there's a lot of amazing things to see in 2011. Cars are getting crazy. Food… man, I never thought I'd crave frozen pizza so much."

"That sounds wonderful," Peggy said, shivering as another gust of wind hit.

"It is," Jane said. "You're going to love it when you see it. There are… people I know you'll want to see."

"Perhaps you can introduce me," she said, "though I won't exactly be a spring chicken anymore."

"You'll be just as badass as you are now, Peggy," Jane said, and they shared one last laugh before the cold returned. "I wish I could tell you how amazing it'll be."

"I can wait."

Jane's fingers curled. She rubbed the silver band and it gave her a burst of strength. "I'll look you up when I get back. Until then, I need you to do me a favor."

She tucked the remote under her arm. It wasn't fragile but she had to be careful as she slid the ring off her finger and tugged Bucky's tags over her head. Both of them went into Peggy's open palm as fast as Jane could manage. If she was too slow, she'd second guess herself, and then they'd be there all night as she agonized over the choice.

Peggy gaped at her as she closed her fist around them. "Are you sure?"

Jane sighed. "Taking anything with me… it's probably not the best idea. There can't be any evidence that I was here. Make sure Bucky's family gets that."

"He gave them to you."

"But they weren't meant for me." Jane pushed Peggy's hand back. Her muscles had gone slack and she almost dropped the remote.

If Peggy wanted to protest, she didn't. She stored the ring and the tags in her coat pocket and buttoned it. They'd be safe for now. There was no one alive Jane trusted with them more. "I'll make sure they where they need to go."

"Thank you," said Jane.

The hour was winding down. Soon the moon would set and the sky would lighten. It ate away at Jane. She could only drag this out for so long. She pushed forward at the same time as Peggy. Their hug went on longer than hers and Howard's, and in many ways it meant so much more. The feeling of her heart ripping apart so many times in just under a week. First she lost Bucky, then Steve, now she was going to lose everything else. She was never going to walk the halls of Lehigh again.

How could it hurt this much?

"Thank you," she whispered, "thank you for everything you've done."

"Thank you for being my friend," Peggy replied. "I couldn't have done this without you."

"Of course you could've," Jane said.

Peggy hummed. "But I would've had no one to talk to."

The hardest part was letting go, but they did it. Jane back into the sand dune. It was sturdier than it had any right to be, not giving an inch under her weight. Howard and Peggy watched, waited. There was a spark of wonder in Howard's eye. He was about to witness something extraordinary and even if he could never tell a soul, a scientist was always a scientist. Jane smiled at him and then at Peggy. Her pocket bulged with Bucky's ring and tags. Jane's neck and finger were empty. All evidence that he had once held her, kissed her, loved her.

Gone.

But it was okay. She'd tell herself that every day until she believed it. He'd be there in her dreams, and that would be enough.

Jane took a breath, stared off into the desert. Peggy mouthed 'goodbye' and she mouthed it back.

She pushed the button.

Time travel was less disorienting the second time around. Not that Jane had any clear memories of the first time. She blinked instinctively and gasped for air as the elevation abruptly changed. The sand dune was gone. She was on a roof. Her roof. Rain pounded on her rocks. Her bridge unit going haywire at her feet. Her own gobsmacked and terrified face stared back at her.

God, she looked so young.

"Wha- what are you…"

Jane closed her eyes as the unit unleashed a burst of energy. Whatever caused it, what type of power it used, what combination of numbers was on screen at that exact moment, Jane would never know. She waited until the beeping ceased. The rain was now a light drizzle. Clouds parted and the moon peeked out. Smoke emitted from the smouldering remains of Jane's prototype. There was nothing and no one else on the roof. A woman just like her was about to wake up to a nasty surprise in a year long since passed.

As for Jane, she had never experienced fatigue quite like this. She climbed down the stairs and left through the back door. Her RV was unlocked. Nobody had anything worth stealing out here so she never bothered securing it. She shed her shirt and her shoes and sunk into the cot. Wrapping a quilt around her damp body, she closed her eyes.

And slept.