Just a Blast from the Past

Chapter Ten

Things were different now. Her plans had changed. It wasn't just about saving Barnes, now. She had to change Steve's fate, too. And that meant staying here longer. She had to think of a way to prevent Steve plunging this plane into the ice; and this, without compromising her cover.

She had thought this through and knew all the consequences this decision would have on the future. And on her. She knew it meant saying farewell to Steve. She was ready to travel back to a future where Captain America would be a hero from the past. And as much as it pained her to lose him again, she knew this time it would be for a happier outcome. Yes, she would return to a future where Steve Rogers was dead, but not just as a public hero, as an old man and beloved husband and father. She could live a lifetime without him as long as he had had the one he deserved and which was his to take in the first place. As for her teammates, she wouldn't have to go through hearing Stark give her an earful about her decision since he wouldn't remember the former timeline at all. To him, Steve Rogers would only be this super soldier with whom his father worked during the Second World War.

Part of her wondered, though, how she would live her life after that. The price to pay for this rectification was her remembering all of it. Remembering the timeline she would have altered, remembering meeting Steve in 1942 and falling for him. She guessed that was what she could call her punishment. Awareness always was the heavy burden to carry among those who were oblivious. Stark, Thor, and the others would carry on in their lives without ever suspecting a thing while she would keep every fragment of those memories which would be just as real as the rest of this new universe.

She considered about staying in 1942 for good. Maybe living a life as Steve's friend, or just even as a shadow was a good option; a way to keep him tangible in her world, but she knew this would go against the very quintessence of her new plan. Just like Steve didn't belong to her world, she didn't belong to his. She didn't exist in his timeline and she never would.

They had had the extraordinary chance to meet, bending all the rules of the universe, but now that she was willing to restore the balance, it inevitably meant being pulled apart for the simple and tragic reason that they didn't belong to the same timeline. And as unfortunate and unfair it was, she had to resign herself to accept that was the one and only natural order.

But this was a matter that would have to wait. She refused to let her original mission shift out of her sight.

She went to a hardware store in a quiet street of Brooklyn. The owner, a big man in his fifties, welcomed her with a silent look.

"May I help you, lady?" he asked from behind his counter when she was about to walk straight to an aisle on her own.

She turned and smiled dryly.

"No, thank you," she answered politely, earning a dubious frown from him. He shrugged nonetheless and turned his back to resume tidying up the display behind him.

She walked slowly down the aisles, meticulously probing every article put on display and assessing whether it could be useful or come handy for her mission. She never was the kind of spy who needed a whole set of tools and other high-tech gadgets when going on the field.; she had been trained the old-fashioned way: use her skills first then improvise with her environment. Thankfully, it was a real strength now in 1943. This shop owner surely couldn't boast of offering the most practical apparatus to any field agent in need.

She also knew she wouldn't be able to carry much. Lock picks, nylon cable ties, and acid; as useful as they would be, they all screamed 'intruder on the move'.

She went to the cash desk and scrutinized the shelves behind. She caught sight of the only thing in the store that wouldn't raise attention: a Swiss army knife.