With the heroes back together, ready to take another stand, the plan to undo this mess and bring back the Fallen commenced.
Everyone chipped in to recreate a better and improved Quantum Tunnel machine, no longer needing to use the one that was hooked up to Scott's van.
Instead, a sleek raised platform was built right in the middle of the warehouse, the tunnel in and of itself integrated within the titanium stage.
Built by Tony and Rocket the platform was elevated, surrounded by stabilizing units to allow particles a safe passage through and above it, hundreds of mirrored plates swirled around, furthering in aiding the mechanisms of the tunnel.
A polished, innovative Time Travel suit was also developed to work in accordance with the Time-Space GPS.
The prototype Nano-Tech suit now being worn by Scott, as he prepared to do another test run, back into the past.
"Hey, hey. Easy there!" Scott criticized to the big green guy, who went to insert the Pym Particles into the suit. The red vile tiny in his massive, emerald shaded hands. "You're being very Hulk-y. Stop."
"I am being careful." Bruce attested, his brown eyes framed by his thick black glasses, him towering over everyone else in the room.
"These are Pym Particles, alright," Scott nagged. "And, ever since Hank Pym got snapped out of existence, this is it! This is all we have. There's no more."
"Scott, calm down." The War Machine cautioned.
"Sorry, it's just... We've got enough for one round-trip each, that's all. No do-overs. And, two test runs." The Little Guy spoke, inserting the vile into the suit himself, only to accidentally use up one of the test runs.
"Okay... One test run," Ant-Man paraphrased, mentally hitting himself for stupidly using up one of the times. "I am so not ready for this..."
"I'll do it." I spoke up, knowing that since the last failed test, the one where Scott got bounced around his own timeline, that rightfully so, he was on the edge. The jitters getting to him.
"Are you sure, Rebecca? You don't have to-" Bruce conveyed, but I was quick to interrupt.
"No, it's fine. I want to do it."
And, with that, it was me wearing the Advanced Tech suit now. Now I was the guinea pig for the test run.
"So, what's this gonna feel like anyway? Is it gonna be like a badass roller coaster, or?" I asked, waiting as Bruce and Nebula worked out the inner system of the suit. Everything needing to be just perfect before even attempting to do this.
"I mean, you'll probably feel a little discombobulated. You'll feel like throwing up too, and nauseous. Basically, it's gonna feel weird." Ant-Man, who had been through it on many occasions, stated.
"Listen, if we can do this. Can't we just, you know, go back in time to when Thanos was a baby, and..." Rhodey commented, miming strangling with his hand gestures.
"First of all, that's horrible." Bruce scolded.
"It's Thanos..."
"And, secondly. Time doesn't work that way. Changing the past doesn't change the future."
"But, we go back, get the stones before Thanos gets them... Thanos doesn't have the stones. Problem solved." Scott affirmed, chiming in.
"That's not how it works." The blue cyborg deadpanned as she worked on the suit I was donning, making sure the settings were programmed correctly.
"Come on, Stark Trek, Terminator, Time Cop, Time after Time, Quantum Leap, Wrinkle in Time, Somewhere in Time, Hot Tub Time Machine, Bill and Ted's Excellent Adventure," Rhodey specified, naming off every known motion picture one by one. "Basically any movie that revolves around time travel. This is known."
"I don't know why everyone thinks that, but it's not true," The Scientist constructed. "Think about it, if you travel to the past, that past becomes your future and your former present becomes your past, which can't now be changed by your new future."
"So, Back to the Future is a bunch of bullshit?" Scott gaped.
"Yes, it is." I said.
"Have you ever even seen the movie?" Rhodey questioned.
"I've been out of the ice for a long time now. I'm caught up, okay." I coldly retorted.
After getting the tech suit up and running it was now time and I stood on the raised metal platform. The rest of the team encircled around the control panel area, all except Steve, who stood beside me.
"Are you sure you want to do this, Becky?" My dear friend wavered, worry and concern biting at him. He didn't want to lose me amongst the pages of time.
"I think I'll be okay. At least I hope so. But, I want to do this." I said, giving the Captain a little peck on the cheek, leaving a rosy mark.
"Alright, Rebecca. We're all ready..." Bruce said and with that I nodded, the Nano-Tech helmet contouring around my face. The whirling Quantum Tunnel opening up beneath my feet.
"I'll be back." I reassured Steve, taking a deep breath.
"3... 2... 1..."
With that, I jumped right in. Traveling through the gateway, through time itself, the GPS guiding me. I was the size of mere atoms now, the tunnel flowing before me, looking much like swirling multi-colored helix's and I closed my eyes before landing.
With a small scream emitting from my lungs I fell to my knees, appearing out of the Quantum Realm and suddenly the swell of swing music echoed in my ears. The symphony of notes being played customary to me, the melody reminding me of the good, old days.
It seemed I had traveled to the past, to my past.
1943.
Stork Club.
"New York's New Yorkiest" establishment. 3 East 53rd Street. Where people went to dust off their cares and mingle amongst the elite of society. Where on any given night you could run into Lucille Ball, Ernest Hemingway or Frank Sinatra.
The famous, dripping with luxury watering hole the best place to forget about the world around you, and to dance your worries away.
With champagne being tossed generously around, band music playing the classic compositions of Glen Miller and with the ballroom packed tight, everyone doing the Jitterbug, the cacophony was filled to the brim with life and zest.
Bouquets of fresh flowers adorned every table and sparkling crystal chandeliers hung from the ceiling. The walls were mirrored and the club radiated with elegance. Manhattan's upper crust gathered within. "Make it do or do without", "Do with less, so they'll have more", and "Food for victory", all regulations seemingly overlooked by the club owner who dabbled in all things refined and expensive.
The monochromatic, afflicted life just outside seemingly disregarded the second you stepped within the joint, the club teeming with splendor as it kept you in a haze of blissful forgetfulness. It was the hot spot to go when one needed to get away from it all, from the opaque grief of living a War-ravaged life.
Seemingly invisible to the party-goers I just gazed around, realizing where I was and more particularly, what day it was.
It was the night before Bucky was to be shipped out...
Within the sea of New York's finest, was a husband and a wife who were savoring their last few hours together before he was to leave for England, to join the War front.
After leaving the Stark Expo we had came here to dance and enjoy our last night together...
With the sound of trumpets and saxophones clamoring in my ears I walked around in a daze, the Graflex cameras sounding like gunshots every time a picture was taken, the flashes of white reflecting in my eyes.
The sight of many other soldiers delighting in their last night as well making my heart feel heavy. Every civilian with the burden of being drafted assuming this was their last night... That they'd never come back home.
With the merriment blithely continuing on around me I slowly made my way around the room, dodging drunken men and flirtatious showgirl's intent on making the servicemen of our country happy. Trudging through the nostalgia I went over to a table I remembered.
The table that had been reserved for us and immediately I noticed a Sergeant's Military cap in particular. Neglected and placed right beside my coat and clutch.
Tracing my fingers along the olive shaded visor I picked the dress uniforms hat up before my attention was drawn towards the dance floor.
Within the zealous throngs of people I saw my past self in the arms of a certain Sarge. His brunette tresses sleeked back, Military jacket cast aside, his slate blue eyes shining. And, damn he was attractive.
Bucky held onto past me tightly, the jazz score encompassing us as he easily twirled me around the club, his smile so bright and happy. Him determined to make this night count and to relish in every second he had left.
"I won't leave you, Doll. I'll always come back." I overheard my beloved say, his Brooklyn laced tone somehow drowning out all other noise.
And, clinging onto the forgotten conversation, I listened in.
"Will you?" Past me expressed, my arms wrapped around his neck with Bucky's securely wrapped around my waist.
"Six years in and have I broken a promise yet?" Bucky teased, flashing a mischievous grin. "And, when the War is over we can start our life together."
"Don't you dare make me be one of those spouses who get's a telegram from the War Department, James. I can't lose you."
"You won't. And, when I get back we'll just settle down." The Sergeant consoled, wishing to ease my anguish rather than deal with his own. After all, it was him joining the War front. Yet, his smile remained locked onto his lips as he desired to comfort me instead.
"And, finally have peace and normality?" Past me disputed, almost not believing such a thing could exist anymore.
Bucky just leaned down and pressed his forehead against mine, the swing music commencing, the party raging on, the Stork Club's luster persisting. But, to us, it was like we were the only one's on the dance floor.
It was just me and my Buck-Buck.
"Course, anything for you, Doll..." Bucky reassured before continuing to twirl past me around the ballroom.
Watching from afar, I fought back tears, the memory before me playing out like strips of film. And, I wanted nothing more than for the footage to continue.
But, as if interrupting me just out of spite, the GPS began to beep, warning me that I had stayed too long when in all truth I wanted nothing more than to remain.
Trapped forever in this fragment of my past didn't seem so bad. If this one night in 1943 lingered on, then nothing bad could happen to Bucky.
This night was the last night... Before he was shipped out, before the Howling Commandos, before he fell from that damn train... This was before the Serum and before he became a prisoner of War. This was before 70 years apart had stricken us, before he became the Winter Soldier and, of course, before the snap...
Tonight was the last night I ever had a full day of peace, but more importantly, this was the last time Bucky had peace as well.
We looked so happy and I couldn't part with this scene...
But, it wasn't like I had a choice in the matter. For, soon enough I was forced back into the Quantum Tunnel and against my will I had to say goodbye to reliving my past.
..........
Landing back onto the platform in the hangar back to the present I just muffled a scream, traveling through time certainly not a picnic as the helmet unfurled from around my head. I felt weak, like my stomach was twisted into knots, but the time travel nausea paled in comparison to the sorrow I felt.
Sitting there I just watched as the heroes came rushing up to me, and I watched the relief which flooded into my friend's sky blue gaze, him just happy to have me back safe and sound.
I wiped the tears from my eyes and felt as Steve helped me up, his muscular arms firmly wrapped around me. My rattled, worn and sadness filled body just dead weight but he held me up with ease.
"Becky, are you okay?" Steve sought out.
"Did it work?" The Iron Man insisted.
And, I just looked down, noticing that Bucky's Sergeant cap was still in my grasp.
Noticing it as well, Steve pulled me into a warm embrace, his chin resting upon the crown of my head as he knew exactly who's it was.
It did work.