There was something in Jane's face. It was bright and hot and it wouldn't go away no matter how much she brushed it away. That it might be the sun occurred to her as she rolled on her other side and opened her eyes a gray metallic plate lined with bolts. Weird. There was usually a door and Peggy's bed in this direction.

"Oh shit!" Jane shot out of bed. "I overslept aga-"

She wasn't in the bunk room. There was no other bed, just her creaky bargain brand cot surrounded by ripped notebook paper and empty soda cans. Her phone was on a plastic footstool. On the kitchen table was a bowl of cereal she'd abandoned last night. Or two years ago. Or last night.

"Oh," Jane said, taking in the fifty feet across tubular space and the sandy terrain outside the window. "Right…"

Her kitchen was an absolute disaster. Jane stepped around dirty clothes and TV dinner boxes to reach the sink. Turning the water on was made difficult by the mountain of unwashed dishes, some of which appeared to be molded over. The toaster was her only available mirror, and her reflection was devastating. Smeared makeup, baggy eyes, hair sticking out like the bride of Frankenstein. There was no way she looked like this the night before.

Unless time travel was just really bad on the complexion.

Jane took her one remaining clean bowl and poured herself some cheerios. There wasn't enough milk left to fill the entire thing but at least it wasn't past the expiration date. She ate slowly while watching a pair of men fix a downed wire. The furniture store up the road was open for business. A shadow on the frosted window was most likely the manager but could've also been that elusive creature known as the 'customer'. In the distance, a woman was shouting. Jane couldn't make out a single word, but she was angry. Maybe at her kids, or her husband, or her boss, or her mother-in-law. A few cars drove by. Dogs barked. Children played.

"Business as usual," Jane muttered, swirling her spoon around the half-empty bowl.

The lab was not quiet. Screaming and gunfire almost made Jane duck for cover, until she remembered TV was a thing again and she had one. Darcy was on the couch with a crumb covered plate in her lap. Arnold had just killed another fifty mooks and she was riveted.

"Sup," she said.

Jane stared at her for so long, her eyes hurt. Until Darcy had no choice but to pay attention. She wasn't wearing her glasses, and Jane should've reminded her of the dangers of staring at a blinking screen for too long. Instead, she stared some more. "You haven't changed…"

She didn't realize that was out loud until Darcy quirked an eyebrow. "I mean, it's been so many long hours since we last saw each other."

Hours. Yeah. Hours...

Darcy sipped her coffee. Coffee. That was a great idea. Jane shambled across the polished floors to the kitchen. All of her appliances were clean and lined up, ready for use. Her blender if she wanted a strawberry smoothie, a pair of frying pans for bacon and eggs, the griddle she bought thinking one day she'd give up store-bought waffles and make them herself. She opened one of the cabinets to grab coffee grounds. Inside were stacks of Tupperware containers. The next cabinet was stocked with canned goods, but no coffee. After that were boxes of cereal and oatmeal. She tried not to make it obvious as she dug through them, keeping her eyes out for a red and brown tin.

"What are you doing?" Darcy asked.

Jane winced. "Nothing. Just getting the coffee."

"You mean the coffee on top of the refrigerator?"

Jane blinked and turned her head. There, indeed, was the Folgers coffee on the fridge. Exactly where she left it. "Right… I knew that."

She poured the grinds into the filter and plugged the coffee maker in. It took a few tries to set the carafe under the nozzle, but she eventually got it right and pressed the button. Nothing happened. Jane waited a while in case it was warming up. She pressed the button again, then a few more times.

"Stupid thing," Jane hissed, shaking it. "Work, dammit!"

"Did you turn it on?" Darcy called out.

"Yes, I turned it…" she set it back down and observed a light that wasn't on and a switch set to OFF. "Er… no, I guess I didn't."

Jane avoided Darcy's gaze as she waited for her drink to brew. Every now and then, her eyes would linger on the younger girl, on her same old brown curls and her same old black-rimmed glasses and the same old taser in her pocket. She never made any attempt to conceal it at home. The more Jane thought about it the more she remembered how to use it, and how often Darcy hinted that she should get one because they're really cool and super easy to use.

'Maybe I will,' Jane thought, staring out the door at the people and the trucks and the buildings. 'I know someone who would've agreed.'

Peace would not come to her this morning, due in no small part to Darcy's lightning-fast channel surfing. In ten seconds they went from a low-key drama to a squawking talk show host to a dramatic car chase to a love scene. Maybe Jane imagined it but Darcy paused on that one for two seconds longer than the rest.

"So what's on the agenda today, boss lady?" Darcy shot Jane the quickest glance or else she'd think the girl was talking to the screen.

There was a to-do list ready on Jane's personal laptop. One of the last things she did every day was fill it with the next day's tasks. Everything from tracking upcoming storms to stocking up on toilet paper. Jane was never what one would call organized, but she tried her best to be efficient about it.

"The usual stuff," she mumbled at the floor.

Darcy shrugged. "Okay, mid-morning TV break it is."

While she continued her search for something to watch, Jane tried to enjoy her coffee. It was a French roast, her favorite. Smoky-sweet and burning her tongue. Not at all like the brown muck they drank in the military, where everything was rationed and flavor took a backseat to practicality. Every sip was an explosion on her taste buds. It made her whole body cringe and she wanted to stop, but every time she just drank more.

"Did you know we have two hundred music channels?" Darcy switched from country to electronica to death metal all in three seconds.

"Nope," said Jane. "That's something else."

"I know, right? Who even uses these? And some of them are way too specific." She kept flipping. "Ever listen to 90s Italodisco before?"

"Can't say that I have." She dropped a spoonful of sugar into the mug and stirred it with her finger.

"Oh wow, they even have one for movie soundtracks."

So take me away, I don't mind

But you better promise me, I'll be back in time

Gotta get back in time

Gotta get ba-

Jane snatched the remote from Darcy and shut the TV off. She tossed it over her head, far from anyone's reach. "I'm going for a walk."

She started for the door. At least that was where she remembered.

"Someone doesn't have music in their soul," said Darcy.

"Nope, sure don't."

There was one main street in Puente Antiguo. It was the most aptly named Main Street Jane had ever seen. A bar on one end, a diner on the other. Somewhere in between was an old general store repurposed into the town hall. The 'mayor' could be found on weekdays cutting meat at the grocery store. There was no Starbucks, no Wal-Mart, not even a pizzeria for miles around. The opening of a 7-11 had been the biggest event in the town's history before the Norse Gods came.

Almost everything had been rebuilt after the Destroyer attack. SHIELD got things done fast, Jane would give them that. Rico, the barber, wiped down his new bulletproof windows and smiled at Jane as she passed. The library was clean and re-organized with the non-fiction books next to the restroom and the fiction books by the counter. Jane wandered the shelves, reading titles from ten, five, one year ago. The colors made her eyes hurt. Even in the middle of a dust bowl, everything was bright. Covers with cutesy computer graphics or high-resolution photos. She grabbed a book at random and flipped through it. Even the words made no sense. At least until she checked the sign on the wall and realized she was in the Spanish section.

The video store clerk across the street was replacing the New Releases sign. Midnight in Paris and The Help. Jane had seen neither of those movies. Her stomach roared like those nearly dry cheerios had been a week ago. Like everyone else in this town with nothing to do before five o'clock, she ended up at Izzy's. She took the table in the far corner and ordered the most unhealthy thing on the menu. No one ever spoke to her anyway, but just to be sure.

"All right, cheddar bacon nachos with extra cheese," Izzy set the heart attack on a plate in front of her with a bowl of dipping sauce, "and one Dos Equis. Enjoy."

She started to leave as Jane stared at the glass and green bottle. "Wait, I didn't order this."

"On the house," said Izzy. "You look like you need it. Still thinking about that man, eh?"

Jane, chip in hand ready to scope up more cheese, went very still. "What?"

She was glad the diner was nearly empty. If Izzy's concerned frown was anything to go by, she was a sight to see right now. "You liked him, didn't you?"

The question burned in Jane's stomach and throat. Blue eyes, calloused hands, stubbled cheeks, they were all she could see as she rubbed her naked ring finger. "I loved him…"

Izzy, unaffected by the tension, barked a laugh. "Love? That's a bit much so soon. Then again, most men wouldn't fight giant robots for you."

Jane blinked, then her eyes widened. "Oh, you're talking about Thor!"

"Yes," Izzy raised an eyebrow. "Who did you think I meant?"

The bell rang as another customer arrived. The other waitress on staff seated him in Izzy's section. Izzy started to back away but didn't seem to want to leave yet. Jane wished she would. She rubbed her eyes, hoping it looked like they were just itchy. "No one. No one at all."

She grabbed the Dos Equis and downed the whole thing.

"Jane I can't wait for you to see what's going on down here. Coulson... well, he doesn't want me to give out too much information since you don't have clearance yet, but last night we got all these unexpected high energy readings. The numbers are astronomical and they're telling us so much."

Jane nodded and kept nodding until her neck ached. Maybe it was the two years away, but Erik appeared twice his age and ten pounds lighter than the man she knew. His massive grin, the kind which should have lit up his face and restored his youthful sheen, instead looked pained. Almost skeletal. It hurt her to look at him, but it hurt more to look away.

"Granted we haven't determined the cause of the surge, but if you were ever going to change your mind about taking SHIELD's offer, now is the time. I mean it, Jane, you need to think hard about this."

"I have thought very hard," Jane said. The microwave dinged and she jumped. Her heart hammered as she retrieved her ramen and hoped that Erik was too excited to notice. "I just don't think SHIELD is the right place for me, Erik." 'Or you. For God's sake, look at yourself.'

"What about your prototype?" He adjusted his collar for the fourth time in as many minutes. "I haven't said anything to them about it, but I think this could be your way in."

"Is that so?" Jane mumbled through a mouthful of soggy noodles.

"It'll make for good leverage is all I'm saying. Think about all you can do with this!"

The prototype remained a charred wreckage on the roof, which was now off-limits to all but Jane. It had been two days since she got back. Soon it would be three, then four, then five. Then a week, a month, a year, and she didn't know if she'd ever been able to walk up those stairs again. "Actually, Erik, I… don't think that's going to work."

He frowned. "What do you mean? Is there something wrong with it?"

Jane forced herself to look casual. "I ran a few tests this morning and I found some pretty bad internal errors. It's basically a dud."

"Oh no," he brought a hand to his head. "Jane, I'm sorry. I don't know what to say."

'Works for me,' Jane thought. "It'll be okay. Every misstep is just a chance to learn for next time."

"Just like your dad always said." Erik was about to continue, but then a faraway voice grabbed his attention. He turned away from the camera, nodding at someone off-screen. He came back looking apologetic. "Jane, I'm sorry, I have to go. But we'll talk later, okay?"

"Do you think you can stay another minute? I just wanted to-"

"I'll call as soon as I can, all right? Good night, Jane."

His side of the screen went black. Jane stared at her own face in the webcam. At the sun streaming over her shoulder. "Wanted to say I missed you…"

Whatever appetite she had five minutes ago was gone. She dropped the noodle cup in the garbage and reminded herself to take it out before it stunk up the place. Yesterday's to-do list had been merged with today's and if she was lucky, at least some of it would be done by tomorrow. There was still data from the thunderstorm she needed to look at, and an inbox stuffed with emails from university board members she'd be stupid to ignore. Plus there were probably other things she was forgetting. It was time for her to get off her ass and be productive, like the greatest secretary any war had ever seen!

Jane was in the middle of her twenty-minute pre-hour break when a truck pulled up.

"Hey Jane, I think we have visitors!"

"That's nice," she said, pulling a pillow over her eyes. "Thank them for coming and tell them I'm indisposed."

"Maybe you should try being disposed for a minute?" Darcy walked around the couch and 'accidentally' knocked Jane's pillow to the floor.

That was one credit she could kiss goodbye. Jane would worry about that later. At the door was not Izzy with more nachos or Erik seeking a caffeine fix. It was a young man with dishwater blonde hair, bony legs, and acne scars. He wore the standard UPS uniform and had a large package held precariously under his arm.

"Good morning…" he said, glancing all around, "I'm looking for a Jane Foster?"

"That's me," said Jane. "Can I help you?"

This would've been his cue to offer her the package, assuming it was for her, but he just stared. "Dr. Jane Foster the astrophysicist?"

"Yes."

"Are you sure?"

"I have ID if that helps."

He didn't answer and Jane grabbed her wallet off the coffee table, removing the card and handing it to him. It felt like an hour before he broke into an impossibly large grin. "Woah, holy shit. Ho-ly shit. This is nuts."

"Excuse me?" Jane took back her ID and held it to her chest.

"I'm sorry, I just… I didn't think you'd really be here." He held out the package. "Dr. Foster, I don't know if you've seen Back to the Future, but we've got something straight out of that movie here."

In the end, it took a fifty dollar tip to get rid of him without any questions. It then took the promise of a weekend off to get Darcy off her back. Jane carried the box outside to her RV. Heading inside, she stared at her living space, the garbage dump that it was. She set the package in the corner out of harm's way, took a box of garbage bags out from under the sink, and had the entire mess bagged and in the dumpster by nightfall. Every salvageable piece of dishware was washed and left to dry. All her food was organized in separate cabinets. She turned her last garbage bag into a makeshift hamper and would be dragging it to the laundromat first thing in the morning.

On her empty kitchen table, Jane placed the box. It was heavier than it looked, reinforced with thick paper and rope. It appeared that fresh tape had been applied over the years. Jane didn't have a box cutter, so she grabbed the sharpest butter knife she owned and got to work. Layers upon layers of packaging fell at her feet until a wooden box was revealed. On one side, a date was stamped. Jane read it over a few times, but it never changed. With shaking hands, she undid the lock and opened the lid.

Inside were her uniforms. Her dresses, her coats, her socks, and shoes. No cone bras, though. She was almost disappointed. Jane set them on her newly made cot with her nameplate, notebooks, and pens. At the very bottom of the bag were a sealed envelope and a cloth pouch. She left the former on the table for later. The pouch sat in her palm for the longest time. There were at least two things inside, hard with rounded edges.

"Peggy," she whispered. "What were you thinking?"

The clothes went under her bed, the nameplate on the nightstand. The pouch and envelope remained with her as she worked up the nerve to open them. These were relics of the past, presented to her as a constant reminder that her time with them was over. That she was alone.

But not for long.

As Jane knew it would, the second day turned into the third day. The first week became the second. Months went by and she had enough work piled on her head to never think about anything else ever. She took consultations, attended conferences, even did a few speaking gigs where five or six college kids hung on her every word while the rest texted their friends.

Darcy stuck around long after completing her 'official' internship. In between classes, she was at Jane's side, ready to drink and shit talk SHIELD at the drop of a hat. By winter, she'd stopped asking about Thor. They hadn't heard a peep out of him and Jane had made no effort to change that. She'd assumed it was forbidden territory, and Jane had no reason to correct her. Instead, she dragged Jane to bars on the weekend where they played rousing games of 'Rate the Hot Guy'. Jane always needed a few drinks to get sort of into the mood, and she rated dark-haired men with blue eyes the highest every time.

One day, aliens invaded New York and Jane was shipped off to Norway. This was an amazing opportunity for her, Coulson Goon Numbers Seventeen and Eighteen said, and to be fair, they weren't wrong. These were major authorities in her field she'd have given her left foot to work with two years ago. Now they were deferring to her. It was wonderful, but in the back of her mind, it hurt knowing SHIELD's top priority was protecting Thor's 'girlfriend'.

Oh well. Don't bite the hand that feeds you.

When it was over, Jane found herself in Manhattan, on the top floor of Stark Tower, standing outside a particular door.

"Are you going in?"

He was right there on the side of her vision, so Jane didn't have to turn her head. The snarky voice, the well-trimmed beard, the relaxed posture like he owned not only this building but the entire world, it sent her back to the old basement lab. She'd had to be careful when met her gracious host. The wrong name had come close to falling out several times.

"I'm just gathering my thoughts," she said, somehow bringing herself to look directly at Tony. "It's kind of overwhelming, meeting someone like him, you know?"

He shrugged. "You had no problem meeting me."

"To be fair, this is far from the first time I've seen your face."

Tony fake pouted. When he did that, he looked so much like Howard, it was scary. Other times, like when he led her to the kitchen to try a slice of the head chef's ginger layer cake, there was a softness to him that could've only come from his mother. At that moment, he was unrecognizable to her, and then he insisted on taking a detour to the lower levels where the building's power source was housed and there was Howard again. Jane never had the chance to meet Maria Stark, but she could already tell he was the best of both his parents.

"Let me tell you a secret," he said, leaning in like he was going to whisper in her ear. He didn't. "He is waaaaay shorter in person."

Jane smiled. "You think you're so funny."

"That is incorrect. 'Think' would imply that I'm wrong, and clearly I am not."

She smiled harder and even laughed a little. For the longest time, she could do nothing but study his face- the laugh lines around his eyes and the streaks of gray at his temples- until he couldn't not comment.

"What's up?" he asked.

Jane shook her head, "Nothing, you just remind me of someone."

"A good someone, I hope."

"I hope so, too."

Tony's phone pinged and he took that as his cue to depart. He left her with a wink and a promise that they'd get lunch one day before she left New York. Halfway down the hall, he spun around. "Oh, and Jane? Thank you so much."

Jane blinked. "For what?"

"You know what."

And then he was gone. Down a hallway Jane didn't know was there, and all she could do was stare after him and try not to think too hard about it. She pressed her hand on the door. It was unlocked. All she had to do was turn the knob and walk inside. Pushing would do nothing. Trying to see through steel just made her head hurt, and the longer she hesitated, the more she wanted to run and keep running.

'You can do this, Jane,' she told herself and she opened the door.

Inside was a cozy lounge. It was smaller than the main one, which was currently full of glass and broken flooring. This one had a black upholstered couch and wine red walls with a massive window overlooking the city skyline. A widescreen TV mounted to the wall was on to a nature show. The man on the couch paid it no mind. He gazed out the window, getting used to how much his city had changed without him.

She didn't know what he'd been told. That he had a visitor? A secret admirer perhaps. Either way, he didn't stand to greet her.

"Steve," Jane said. Part of her hoped he wouldn't hear her, but of course, he did.

There was far more color in his cheeks than she expected after years trapped under the ice. He hadn't changed a bit, and though her hair was down and she'd traded her skirts for pants, she knew she hadn't changed either. His face told her all she needed to know. First was the exhaustion. After leading his new team through a battle against alien invaders, he did not want to see anyone right now. Next, the confusion as his mind worked to reconcile the woman standing before him with the modern setting around them. He shot to his feet, mouth hanging open. He was wearing jeans.

'Peggy would've loved to see this.'

"Wha…" it came out less like a word and more like the squeak of a mouse. He didn't try again for a while. His posture relaxed and his breathing was normal. He even managed a small, polite smile. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to stare. For a second I thought… you look just like someone I used to-"

"It's me, Steve. It's Jane." She put on her thickest accent, returning to her normal voice a little more with each word. "Only I'm not who you think I am."

His smile had melted away. What replaced it was something Jane couldn't decipher.

"My name is Jane Foster," she said. "I'm a doctor of astrophysics. I was born in June of 1981, and for the last few years, I've been trying to find evidence of interstellar travel to create a bridge between dimensions. One night, I was running an experiment, and something went wrong."

She told him as much as she could. About waking up in the forties, disguising herself as a nameless assistant. Every time she mentioned Peggy, she choked (he wouldn't stop looking at her like that) and she couldn't even bear to say Bucky's name.

"After the attack on the Valkyrie, Peggy and Howard flew me back to New Mexico so I could go back." Jane smoothed out her shirt. "I wanted to come see you sooner but I kept telling myself it wasn't the right time. I don't think there's ever a right time for something like this."

She wanted to keep talking, but there was nothing else to say. He was taking this better than she expected. Or at least, he hadn't started screaming yet.

"You were from the future," he said, with all the emotion of a robot.

Jane nodded. "Yeah."

"And Peggy knew."

Another nod. "Yeah…"

Steve stared at her, then straight ahead. After a moment, his face hardened. "No."

He left the couch, walking to the door. Jane hurried after him. "Steve, wait."

"I said no."

"Please, let me just-"

"You've done enough," he snapped, rounding on her so fast, she almost fell backward. "I don't know who put you up to this or what you hope to accomplish, but the last thing I need right is some sick little game-"

"You're taller than me!" Jane burst out, not caring if she sounded hysterical.

Steve narrowed his eyes. "What?"

She took a step closer. "The first time we met before you got the serum, you told me you were glad to be taller than someone for once. And then I said I'd wear my flats the next day, and I- I told you to work hard, just like the last time we spoke. Right before you…"

Even if he didn't look like he expected her to pull a gun on him, Jane couldn't have finished that sentence. He backed up until his legs hit the couch and fell back on it. Jane hesitated a moment, then sat with him.

"Jesus Christ…" he muttered. "It's really you, isn't it?"

"I know this is a lot to take in," Jane said, "especially after everything that's happened."

"The whole time we knew you…"

She tried to smile and failed. "It wasn't exactly something I could bring up in casual conversation."

"Then you knew, didn't you?" Steve either couldn't or wouldn't look at her anymore. "You knew what would happen to me."

Jane swallowed. "I had an idea."

"And you never said a word."

Even knowing he wouldn't be happy about this, nothing could've prepared Jane for the bitterness in his voice. "I had no choice, Steve. The day I went back was the day they took you out of the ice. It was already part of the timeline and I couldn't risk changing anything."

"Why not?" He stood over her. "Would things have changed that much? There were other ways to get rid of Red Skull."

"But this is the way it happened," Jane said. "It's not like choosing a shirt to wear or what to have for lunch. This was a major historical event with a huge impact on the war effort. Even the smallest action causes a ripple effect. You can't change one thing without changing thousands."

"You could've tried!"

"Well, who would've been here to lead the fight?" Jane motioned at the black smoke billowing from buildings still on fire. Though they couldn't hear through the glass, the sirens would still be blaring. People would still be dying. "I'm not an expert on time travel, but one thing I do know is the past. It's not like the future, it's already been written."

Steve's anger cracked the tiniest bit. "But you did change the past, Jane. Just by being there you changed things. You honestly think you had no effect on anyone?"

"I know I did," Jane shrunk into herself. "I tried so hard not to get involved with you or Peggy or… or with…"

Pressure welled up in the back of her throat, rendering her speechless. Steve had no such problem, and a lot more to say. "So you didn't want to change the past, and yet you became Peggy's secretary, you worked with Howard, and you accepted Bucky's marriage proposal. You didn't seem concerned with effecting the timeline then."

"Do you think I haven't thought of this?" Jane slammed her fist on the armrest. "Every day I was there, Steve, every day it was in the back of my mind what would happen to you. Every day since I got back, all I could think about was you and Peggy, everything you could've had together. Everything you lost. I hate myself that I couldn't do anything. That I couldn't save him!"

Even the ringing was gone now. It was pure silence as they stared at each other, Jane's words echoing in a room that shouldn't have had the right acoustics. She could hardly breathe without sobbing. Facing him had become impossible. She never should've come here.

Turning away, she buried her face in her hands. Countless nights of crying herself to sleep had robbed her of tears. She had nothing left to give but a tiny gasp as Steve's arms came around her.

"I'm sorry," he said, muffled by her hair. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry."

Jane shook her head. "Don't be. You're right."

"No."

"You are."

"No. I'm sorry. I'm so so sorry."

He was shaking. Crying, too. It proved Jane wrong, she did have tears left. She let him cradle her, just like the day he stepped off that plane alone. The locale could not have been more different, but even within four walls, protected from the elements, the cold would never abate. It was deep inside them both, bringing them closer together as they sought the warmth they'd lost. Steve's enormous presence created an air of protection almost as strong as Bucky's. She could only hope she gave him just as much relief.

For now, it was all they had.

It was five stories tall and dome-shaped, wedged in between two mountains on the outskirts of Tuscany. Seven labs, classrooms for new recruits, and a private observatory built into the mountain. It was truly a marvel of architecture not seen since Tony Stark decided to build his house on a structurally unsafe cliff side. None of this was in the pamphlet, but it should've been. Along with the ground floor cafe serving kopi luwak and the actual literal eye scanner she had to use to get in.

Instead, it was a standard directory of all the departments and basic outlines of stuff Jane already knew in her sleep. She skimmed it for two seconds and then tossed it in the nearest trash can. She was pretty sure that thing was mobile.

Her appointment was in twenty minutes. She'd talk to the head of R&D, give her extremely abridged and edited report, and be gone in an hour. Completely painless aside from the all-seeing eye of the scary government agents following her home.

This was her first time setting foot in the Cinderhouse building. With any luck, it would be her last. Her plain decaf in hand, she followed the path to the elevators. Everything from the sliding doors to the holographic maps guiding her way screamed 'money'. Photos of past innovators adorned the walls. Howard had an entire display all to himself because anything else would've been a gross insult. The centerpiece was a life-size body shot retouched and colorized. He couldn't have been that much older than when she knew him and she almost thought he winked at her.

"Never change," Jane said. She would've stayed longer, but the halls were crowded, and scientists were naturally curious.

Up ahead was an American flag and a gold plaque screwed into the wall. Jane slowed her pace- traffic was thinning- and came to a complete stop as she read the engraving.

Dedicated to all those who gave their lives in the Second World War to make peace possible. To our fallen friends, we salute you.

On the surface it was the same empty gesture one could expect at any political rally. The sheer presumptuousness ('They were no friends of yours, you creeps.') made Jane's blood boil. It was almost enough to overcome her exhaustion and make her lash out. Her coffee would've made a great projectile, but she calmly sipped it and re-read the sign, noting a tiny water stain in the bottom corner someone should really clean.

A man and woman stopped two feet away, chattering with accents Jane instantly placed as English and Scottish. What they were talking about was another story. She'd probably understand if she listened in, but who had time for that?

"All right, let's get back to the lab and work it out there. I don't want to miss lunch," the man said.

The woman scoffed. "Not like you'd be missing much. You'd think for all the money SHIELD puts into this place they could afford some decent chips once in a while."

"They might not care as much as you think," the man replied. "Can't even give it a decent name. What does Cinderhouse even mean?"

"Excellent question," Jane said under her breath.

"Actually, Agent Carter named it," said the woman as they disappeared around the corner. "Something about a friend from the war with that name. At least that's what I've heard…"

Their voices turned to unintelligible mush. Jane listened only passively. Her ears worked of their own volition. She reached for the plaque, running her fingers along smooth brass. In the corner was the elevator, which she needed to be on in the next five minutes if she wanted to be on time. The silver panel bore the usual buttons, and that single silly word stamped across the top.

It was at the bottom of the plaque, too. 'Property of the Cinderhouse Building.'

At a time like this all she could do was grin. And laugh. So she did.

"Well, shit."

Jane got back to her hotel just after midnight. Noon tomorrow was her checkout time unless she extended, and that was an increasingly attractive notion.

She had a few missed calls. One from Darcy, one from Erik, three from Steve. Jane put her phone with her wallet in the drawer. From the front compartment of her bag she withdrew the envelope. It was sealed with a piece of scotch tape. The flap bore microscopic tears from where it had first been opened.

Jane sat at the table in the kitchenette. The curtains were drawn and there were so many stars out tonight. She knew ten of them right away. Their distant light made her skin translucent, and felt like a hug from millions of loving arms.

The tape came away like nothing. The letter slid out. It was already half unfolded.

Dear Jane,

I don't quite know how to start this letter. As you can imagine, I've written and rewritten it several times so I'll do my best to be as concise as possible.

The fact is, we never discussed what to do with your belongings. I know you said not to leave any evidence, and if I'd asked, I'm sure you would've insisted I burn or shred or otherwise destroy everything. I find I cannot do that. They are not mine to destroy, so I'm sending them to you care of the postal service. If all goes well, you will receive this package in 2011 shortly after your return and not before. Don't worry about the cost or the prolonged postdating. Howard has taken care of everything.

You may disagree with me on this. I understand if you want to forget everything and move on, but I hope you won't. This not as a punishment, it's a reminder of all the good you did. And you did so much good.

You were the best friend I've ever had, my one true confidant. You were Howard's favorite colleague. You were a friend to the Howling Commandos. You were the light of Barnes' life.

I want you to have these because they were meant for you. Just like you were meant to be with us. As you go forward in life, and be the woman you were always meant to be, I hope you will carry our memory with you, and that it will bring you peace to know we're all thinking of you.

If I'm still alive, I hope you'll look me up. I'll be waiting with stories to tell, and I can't wait to hear all of yours.

Good luck, Jane. Godspeed.

Your friend,

Peggy

March 11th, 1944

She read it again and again. Pretty soon, she'd know it by heart. The pouch poked out of her bag as if demanding attention. Jane took it out and carefully dumped its contents on the table. Bucky's tags twisted around the engagement ring like a protective barrier. She untangled it, threw the chain around her neck and placed the ring on her finger.

It still fit perfectly.

"What do you think?" She held it up to the moon. It was nearly full. The stars twinkled. "Yeah, it's pretty great. The guy who gave it to me was even better…"

The clock struck midnight. Not literally as it was digital, but that blinking light had never been more of a nuisance. Jane turned her chair away from it. Sleep could come later. From the same envelope she withdrew a photo. Even in black and white, the reactor core was omnipresent, taking all the attention away from the pair posing before it. Jane was glad to see her smile reached her eyes, much as her stomach churned in the moment. As always, Howard's charm was undeniable, endearing and infuriating in a way only he and his son could manage.

It made for a great shot. He'd been right all along. Jane read the back.

'This was yours, too. -H.'

She held it and the letter as she stargazed. "I think I'll go to Hawaii. They have a great observatory down there."

After that she could take a trip up north with Erik. It wasn't the right time of year for the polar lights, but she could wait a few months. She'd have plenty to do in the meantime. Experiments to run, discussions to lead, bridges to build.

Time waited for no one.

"Wherever I go, I promise I'll take you." She kissed the ring and clutched the tags. "I love you."

Maybe somewhere out there, if she dared to believe in such things, he was listening. He knew she was thinking about him, carrying him into the future with her.

Maybe somehow, he was with her. And he was smiling.

The darkest pits of a bunker in the coldest Russian tundra.

Three men crowded around a metal chamber. Bolts and wires held it together. The square window at eye level was white and foggy. Even as the lights turned on and the lock was released, there was little to see. The doors opened, the ice receding. Slowly a figure took form, garbed in all black. The material protected his naked flesh from the sub zero temperatures. A breathing apparatus kept him teetering on the edge of existence. Not quite dead but never alive.

All were removed. His head lolled on his shoulders, eyes darting in all directions. It took all three men to carry him. Even without that arm, he was a heavy bastard. Dropping him in the chair, they set to work. The restraints went into place automatically. He put up token resistance as they'd come to expect. Fully cognizant, he'd be impossible to contain. That was the only thing keeping the man with the book from smacking him when he tried to bite.

"Желание," he read. "Семнадцать. Ржавый. Рассвет. Печь. Девять. Добросердечный. Возвращение на родину. Один. Товарный вагон."

With each word, his body stilled. His muscles relaxed. His face unscrewed itself. The silence was chilling, though none of them would admit it. Slowly his bonds were removed. On the last word he opened his eyes. Cold, lifeless, ready.

"Я готов отвечить."

The Soldier had risen.

A/N: I don't think I need to give you guys Russian translations. You already know...

This marks the halfway point between the beginning of this story and the end. I'll be taking a short break to work on other things, but expect new chapters to start in January of 2020. I'll see you all then!