Steve methodically disabled every fighter plane and pilot as he made his way to the front, relieved everytime he read the name of the city that would not be bombed, of the thousands of innocents that would be saved. He wished he could disable the large bombs fixed to the planes too, but he had neither the skills nor the time. Do, instead of several small planes with large bombs, he now had one large plane with a huge explosive charge, the consequences of which he couldn't even begin to imagine. And if that's all Schmidt had on hand, Steve had no doubt he would use it.

"You don't give up do you?" the Red Skull asked as he stood from the pilot's seat in the cockpit.

They were flying fast, above the ocean now. Water as far as he could see, which was a relief. He still had time.

"I did warn you," Steve said, smashing his shield into the other man's face, but he was fast and blocked it.

Steve stepped back. He needed an opening, a way to end this fight as quickly as possible to take care of this plane. Steve feigned surprise and spoke over Schmidt's shoulder.

"Maybe you'll listen to her."

It wasn't much, but Schmidt's eyes widened as he risked a glance over his shoulder. Steve kicked him. Hard. Square in the chest, sending him crashing against a console. To his horror, a hatch opened and he realized it was holding the blue cube, the Tesseract. Schmidt reached for it with eager hands. Steve had no idea what he could do with it, if he could wield its power bare-handed, but if Hermione was terrified of the thing, he wanted to stay well clear of it himself. Holding his shield up, Steve expected the worse from him, so he wasn't surprised by the energy pouring out of the cube in a blinding wave of light which seemed to create a hole into space above them, expanding the cockpit without breaking it. Steve could barely make out Schmidt's silhouette as it was pulled and stretched and swallowed by the strange energy surrounding them. His screams dimmed, then vanished, and so did the Red Skull. Dead. Killed by his own weapon.

The Tesseract hung there for another second then fell down onto the metal grating, melting right through it, then through the next and he had no doubt it would melt all the way through the plane and into the darkest depths of the ocean below. He couldn't care less though. He had no interest in the thing, and if it was lost for all eternity, all the better.

No, what Steve needed to do right now was figure out what to do with a plane full of bombs. He dropped his shield and sat on the pilot's seat Schmidt had vacated earlier. The control panel indicated "ZIEL NEW YORK CITY". Of course Schmidt would be that petty. Thinking of his city turned to dust made him sick to his stomach. He had to find a way to avoid that while not causing any casualties, but Schmidt had jammed the controls and he could not set if off course. Spotting the headset tossed aside, Steve radioed in, hoping he could still get in touch with the Hydra control tower which should now be taken over by his allies. If they put all their heads together, they might find a way… Barring that, he could at least say good-bye.

"Come in. This is Captain Steve Rogers. Do you read me?"

Static that seemed to last forever while the plane kept speeding onwards, then Morita's familiar voice greeted him, asking for his position before he was abruptly cut off by a feminine voice. For a split second Steve had hoped it was Hermione's, then was crushed all over again when he recognized Peggy's voice instead. A foolish hope when he had seen her fall with his own eyes.

"Steve! Are you alright?" Peggy asked.

"Fine. Schmidt is dead, but the plane-"

"Steve!"

Steve faltered for a moment, certain he was starting to hallucinate, but the panicked voice called his name again and there was no doubt who it was.

"Hermione? How? I saw you fall."

"I messed up. I let my fear get the better of me, but I found a safe outcrop to land onto until the guys pulled me back up. I should be up there with you, I'm sorry."

Steve chuckled. He was so glad, so relieved, so happy in that instant… until reality caught up with him.

"Hermione, this plane is headed for New York. It can't be stopped, it can't be deviated. Unless you guys think of something, the only way to stop it before it's too late is down."

Silence met his announcement, followed by a chorus of no in the background while Peggy told him she would get Howard.

"It'll be too late by then. I'm running out of time. I have to put her down in the water before I reach land. Maybe the bombs won't detonate in the water. It's our only hope."

"But...what about you?" Hermione asked, choking on her words.

Steve felt like the worse piece of scum for what he was about to say, especially after promising her he'd return.

"I'm sorry. I don't have a choice, love. It's my life to save millions. I know you'll understand."

Knowing her life, her own sacrifices, he knew she would. She might even forgive him in good time. He hoped so. Steve began forcing the plane down while a broken sob on the other end broke his heart but not his resolve. It had to be done.

"Steve! Wait I'm sure we can-"

Steve cut off Peggy. He knew she meant well, but this wasn't time for false hope. The plane was going down fast.

"Hermione. I know you'll get through this. You're the strongest, most wonderful woman I've ever met. I love you. I'll always-"

… love you.

The water's surface had come so suddenly, hitting the nose of the plane with such force, it knocked the wind out of him. The dizziness was soon replaced by a cold so cold it burned and numbed at the same time. He knew he couldn't fight it, so he didn't try and let himself be taken by the dark water, closing his eyes one final time so his last thoughts would only be of Hermione and Bucky, the two people who had made his life so rich and worthwhile.

From the journals of Peggy Carter:

March 5th, 1945

They made it official today. I have just seen the newspaper and it breaks my heart to see his earnest face staring back at me. To be honest, I can't. I turned it around and felt like I was betraying him, but I can hardly believe it. I can't believe he's gone.

Howard can't either. He's building all these mad schemes and machines to find him, but what's the point? Even with the super-serum… crash landing at high speeds, sinking into deep frozen waters… I can't imagine there will be much left to retrieve.

I know he didn't have a choice, I know... but dang it Steve! How could you do that to Hermione? She heard it, the exact moment the line went dead, the exact moment you crashed. I think she died too, then. She didn't say a word and walked away, but no one ever saw her again.

A soldier on guard duty outside swears she literally vanished into thin air, like a mirage in the desert. I mean, it's possible given her powers, right?

But I wish I hadn't given her space to grieve. I wish I had clung to her and helped her through it… well, not get over you, that would have been an impossible task, but at least convince her to give life a chance.

I lost two dear friends that day, and now I'm writing to their ghosts as if they might answer.

Steve opened his eyes and glanced around, his confusion growing with every breath he took, because he shouldn't be here… wherever here was. He should be dead, buried at sea in a Hydra plane. He sat, feeling out his body, but it was as healthy and powerful as it had always been since his transformation. The radio broadcasting in his room, on the other hand, was all wrong. Why on earth was it blaring out a "live" commentary of a baseball match he'd seen in person in 1941.

His suspicions only grew when an army nurse walked in. Wrong, wrong, wrong. The stockings, the buckle of her shoes, her nails, even the way she walked. He wouldn't even mention her bra and carefully avoided looking in that area. The strangeness, the way everything was just slightly off, reminded him of Hermione… Oh God, Hermione! He had to find her. She had to be worried sick. He'd been talking to her over the radio when solid water suddenly appeared out of the clouds, and it had been too late to tell her anything more, to say goodbye.

Steve got up on his feet, but the nurse tried to stop him.

"Ma'am, just don't. Where am I? And where is Hermione?"

The woman fidgeted. He had never seen such a shifty looking dame before. His eyes narrowed at her when a most unpleasant thought struck him. He grabbed the woman by her shirt and lifted her up to growl in her face.

"Are you Hydra?"

He thought he had gotten rid of the scum by killing the Red Skull and sacrificing his life to crash that doomsday plane, but here he was, alive and whole, in this strange charade of a place, so who knew what had happened after he had passed out? Maybe Hydra had had a backup plan to take over the world and they were toying with him for some nefarious reason.

"Captain, please."

A dark man with an eyepatch and the strangest clothes he'd seen since Hermione's "man-clothes" walked into his room, hands raised as if to placate him. Steve looked him up and down, then thought better of his questions.

"Or should I ask when am I?"

The man's lonely eyebrow rose.

"We wanted to break it to you slowly, Captain, so forgive us for the subterfuge. Would you mind putting agent Byron down?"

Steve glanced at the wide-eyed woman and delicately put her down. The dark man clad in leather looked so much like a comic book villain that he would never have shown his face if he really was one. He would have sent in someone more presentable in his stead, so he was being honest, in a way.

"Are you going to answer my questions, or should I go looking for the answers myself."

"You might not like what I have to say."

"I'm not going to stick my head in the sand. Just tell me."

Steve crossed his arms over his chest and waited.

"Come. You'll want to see it for yourself."

A protest was on the tip of his tongue. He just wanted to get this over and done with, but the other man seemed just as stubborn and Steve needed the news too badly to battle this one out, especially since he was still high on adrenaline from waking up in a strange place with strange people. When he came down from that high, he might not be as receptive, or at all. He had an ominous feeling everything was about to go terribly wrong again.

It was confirmed when he walked out of his fake room, which looked just like a movie decor from the outside, something he was, unfortunately, very familiar with. His unease grew when he entered a squeaky clean government base with high windowed ceiling, crawling full of suits and military type. A familiar environment, yet different.

"My name is Nick Fury. I am the Director if this government agency called SHIELD."

This news confirmed Steve's fear. He must have been out of it after the crash for much longer than he had imagined if a whole new governmental agency had been born. And everything had a bright, modern edge to it he had glimpsed at the Stark Expo with Hermione and Bucky. His steps faltered.

"What year is it?" he managed to ask past the lump in his throat.

Fury was standing by a window, waiting for him like the drama queen he seemed to be, but his legs were like lead and Steve couldn't have taken a step further if he wanted too. Jesus, did the guy want him to look at whatever was outside and have a coronary? Fury stared at him with his one baleful eye, but he relented when Steve didn't so much as blink. He had stared down the Red Skull, this Fury guy had nothing on him.

"2011."

Steve closed his eyes. So much worse than he had feared. Further even than Hermione's time.

"Hermione?" he managed to croak out after a few minutes.

He opened his eyes. His heart was beating so fast. He needed to know, yet had never feared anything more than the words he was about to hear. He'd already lost Bucky, he couldn't lose Hermione too. What would be the point?

"No one knows," Fury answered keeping his unblinking eye on him. "She vanished into thin air, the same day you went down under."

Vanished? Not dead. Not growing old without him by her side. Maybe… maybe she'd been returned to her world. It was possible… or just wishful thinking. In any case, he might never see her again. He was alone, he had lost both his sergeants. He shouldn't be here, didn't deserve to. Why hadn't these people just left him where they'd found him?

Steve stepped up to the window. With any luck, he could give himself that heart attack, but the view was beautiful. Everything Hermione had told him about the future, he could see, and then some. He missed her even more in that moment, her absence a deep gouge in his heart. Steve turned away and slid down the wall onto the floor, trying to slow his breathing. If he wasn't a supersoldier, he'd think he was having an asthma attack. Thankfully, Fury didn't try to comfort him, but left him to grieve with only a few words.

"Take your time, Rogers. Take all the time you need."

In the following weeks, Steve went through the motions, but his heart wasn't in it. It had been lost in the ice, one half in the ravine of a snowy mountain, the other in the frozen ocean. He felt so lonely after having been surrounded by Hermione, Bucky and his team 24/7 for so long, that it was impossible not to miss them with every passing second. The pain, the pang of loss never lessened, but he tried not to show it. He didn't want their pity or empty words, so he soldiered on. He tried not to dwell on the past, not to lose himself to the memory of them. It was next to impossible, but it was the only way to keep on, and that's what his sergeants would have wanted.

So he had been assigned quarters, given clothes, his army back-pay, seventy years of it… what a joke. And agents were keeping a not so discreet eye on him. If he cared at all, he'd be annoyed, but he just pretended not to notice them the same way he pretended to be living.

The only time he found some relief from the grief, the loss, the uselessness and dreariness of everyday was punching a goddamn sandbag at the unfairness of it all. The one he'd hung up just five minutes ago went flying through the air, spilling sand everywhere. Steve sighed and went to collect the broom to clean up his mess. Just because he was a wretch didn't mean he was okay with making the janitor miserable too.

"On broom duty?"

Steve whirled around, broom at the ready, his instincts still very much combat-oriented despite the last few weeks spent as a civilian, but the man who had interrupted him did not seem threatening in the least. Just another agent in a black suit, one if his babysitters as he'd come to think of them, but they usually kept their distance. They never talked to him.

But the way this agent met his eyes so directly was unnerving.

"Can I help you?" he asked, sounding gruffer than he'd intended, but the other man's smile only grew wider.

"Actually, I think I'm the one who can be of help to you, Captain Rogers."

"No offense, but I seriously doubt it."

No one could help him. Steve resumed his sand gathering, pushing the broom in front of him with sharper jabs than before, annoyed at the interruption. The intruder coughed politely at his back. Steve allowed himself one mighty sigh before he turned around once more. The man was handing him a file. Steve hesitated. He wanted to tell him to go play on the train tracks, but getting rid of his good manners was not so easy.

"Not interested," he said instead.

"Some files alluded to the fact Lady Liberty was linked to the Tesseract."

Hermione's war-moniker was like a punch to the guts. He glared at the agent but snatched the file from his hands. As expected, it was about the blue cube and not Hermione. That had been a dirty trick, but now that he has the file open, he might as well read it. The idiots had apparently found the Tesseract and were playing with it, poking at a thing beyond their power, beyond their control, even with all their modern technology. Steve snapped the file closed and handed it back.

"You should have left that thing in the ocean," he said through gritted teeth.

The very sight of it put him on edge, stirred memories he'd rather not have to relive.

"Too late for that I'm afraid. But you seem to know more about it than we were told. We could use your intel. It's been acting up lately, and since we can't just toss it back in the ocean..."

Steve bit back a curse. He knew he was being played, but this bit of information was hard to ignore. From what he knew, the only times the cube had lashed out was when the Red Skull had picked it up and when it had been in close proximity to Hermione's magic, both people who were linked to him: his nemesis and his love. Maybe he should check it out just in case. With any luck, the Tesseract would strike against him and put him out of his misery.

"You know what? I'm in. Take me to your damn cube."