A/N: As promised, the final chapter to this little fic!

I hope I wrap it all up satisfactorily for those who have hung in with this fic. Thank you once again for your patience. And I guess, we should just go for it, hmm? See if Steve finally works a way out of his own personal Groundhog night. ;)

CHAPTER ELEVEN

"Wait here, please," Sandy instructed her driver, climbing out of the limo.

The man's cell phone started to ring and he grimaced. "It's Ms. Vanderling again. What am I meant to tell her?"

"Tell her we'll be right back. There is just something I have to do first." Sandy looked around at the buildings, taking it all in.

"What?"

"I don't know yet," she said honestly. With that Sandy started to walk to the intersection of 44th and Main. She stood under the sign for a moment, trying to work out what she should be doing next. There was just this compulsion to be there. Further down the street she saw an orange corvette parked across from a dry cleaners. Sandy immediately started to walk towards it without really knowing why. An obviously pregnant woman walked out of the dry cleaners with several suits strung over her back and headed towards the corvette as well. Sandy intercepted her. "Hi."

The woman looked at her in surprise. "Hi."

"Is that your car?"

She wrinkled her nose and laughed. "It's my husband's. I know, terrible color but he'd wanted an orange corvette ever since he was a little boy, so he splurged last year and bought himself one." She patted her swollen stomach. "Not very practical anymore though. We're going to go and look at more family friendly cars tomorrow."

"Right," said Sandy faintly, staring at the car. What was it that was setting off so many alarm bells in her head about this car? She was aware the other woman was looking at her a little strangely.

"Are you alright?"

Sandy gave an uneven smile. "I don't know," she said hoarsely. "I'm not sure why I'm here."

"Are you lost? Would you like a ride somewhere?"

Before Sandy could respond to the woman's kindness, a man in an orange tracksuit suddenly appeared out of nowhere. He pointed a gun at them. "Give me the keys to the car," he growled at them.

"What?" gasped the woman.

"I want the corvette," bit out the man. He waved a hand at his clothes. "It matches my outfit." He sneered. "Must be fate."

"You can't have my car," snapped the woman.

"Give him the keys," said Sandy, staring wide-eyed at the man.

"Listen to four eyes," agreed the man. He pointed the gun directly at her face. "Give me the keys or I blow your head off and take it anyways."

"I'm pregnant," gasped the woman, putting a protective hand over her stomach.

"It ain't mine," bit out the man, "so why should I care if you're knocked up?"

The woman reached into her bag with a shaking hand and held out the keys.

The man snatched them from her. He waved the gun at them. "You two, back up, get out of my way."

Sandy and the woman did as they were told, watching as the man opened the car door and went to climb in.

"Wait!" said the woman suddenly, sounding a little panicked. She grabbed Sandy's arm. "My wedding ring is in there."

At the touch of the other woman's hand, Sandy suddenly had a flash of the future. She saw the pregnant woman lying on the sidewalk, bleeding out rapidly from two gunshots to the chest.

The woman rushed at the car to try and retrieve her wedding ring before he left but her sudden action startled the man and he raised his gun, pointing it directly at her.

#

"Here!" yelled Steve as he caught sight of the orange corvette parked below them. "Drop me here and go."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes, just go." Tony let him go and Steve dropped through the air, landing on his feet and then just starting to run. Two shots rang out as he got closer to the corvette and he was just in time to see the man in the orange tracksuit running off down the street as fast as he could. Steve grabbed his shield and threw it at the man. The adamantium shield contacted with the man's back and propelled him into a nearby wall. The man slid down the wall and then didn't get up again, knocked completely unconscious by the force of the blow.

"Help me, somebody help me!" The hysterical cries of a woman had Steve leaping over the corvette to witness a terrible scene. A pregnant woman was holding another woman in her arms, blood pooling all around them. As the woman straightened up, Steve caught a flash of peacock on the victim's dress and his stomach dropped. "Sandy!" he rasped, hurrying over to her and dropping to his knees beside her.

The pregnant woman was pale, tears running down her face. "I-I just wanted my wedding ring back. My fingers were all swollen and I had to take it off but he was taking the car and I just wanted them back. I didn't want anyone to get hurt," she babbled. "He went to shoot me but she stepped in front of me." She made an anguished face. "Why would she do that? I don't even know her."

"Call 911," said Steve urgently, not taking his eyes off Sandy as he took her from the woman's arms into his own. He looked at the other woman who was still clearly in shock. "It's alright," he tried to reassure her to get her to calm down. "Everything is going to be alright. Just call 911."

The woman tearfully nodded her head and then crawled over to where her bag was and dug out her phone. People were starting to gather around them but Steve ignored them as he put his hand over the holes in Sandy's chest and pressed down hard. She gave a low groan and coughed up some blood. "It's okay, Sandy," he tried to soothe her quickly. "Help is on its way. You're going to be okay no matter what happens, I promise you. All of this is going to reset." Steve knew Sandy wouldn't know what he was talking about but he needed her to know that. He was too late again but he'd never stop trying.

"No," said Sandy faintly, looking up at him and blinking, "this is how it's meant to-to end."

"You don't know what you're saying," said Steve unevenly. "This isn't how it ends, Sandy, it can't be." He blew out a distressed breath. "How are you even here? Why aren't you at the restaurant, waiting for me?"

"Be-because I was supposed to be here," said Sandy, her every breath sounding labored. "I was always meant to be here and you show-showed me that." She looked up at him. "I remember everything now. I kn-know what you tried t-to do for me."

"I'm not letting you die, Sandy," said Steve tightly. "That is not going to happen, do you hear me?"

"I took two-two lives." Sandy slowly turned her head and looked at the pregnant woman who was being comforted by passing strangers. "And now I've g-given them back," she said emotionally.

Steve followed her gaze and then tightened his hold on her. "You're not meant to die this way," he argued with her fiercely. "I'm meant to save you. I'm meant to save everyone."

A tear streaked down Sandy's pale face. "You-you have saved m-me, Steve." She reached up a shaking hand to remove her glasses but couldn't quite manage it. Steve quickly moved to help her, removing the thick glasses which had protected Sandy from seeing the horrors around her for so long. She looked up at him, blinking away tears and then a slow smile touched her lips. Sandy reached up a shaking hand and touched his face. "You're perfect," she breathed in awe.

Steve swallowed hard and realized she wasn't seeing him all burnt and bleeding anymore and tears stung his own eyes, refusing to accept what that meant. "No," he said urgently, "time is going to reset, you'll see. I'm going to fix this."

"No," she breathed unsteadily, "it's already fixed."

Steve put his face close to hers. "I'm not leaving you, Sandy and I'm not going to let you leave me. You're not alone, do you hear me, you're not alone."

Sandy turned her head and looked off into the distance, a beautiful smile creeping over her face. "I know." She reached out a hand towards where she was looking. "Lily," she breathed softly as the her last breath left her body.

Steve felt her go limp in his arms and he'd seen enough death to know that she was gone. He dropped his head and felt a wave of grief wash over him. Steve barely registered the paramedics arriving and their attempts to try and revive Sandy. They were just going through the motions, Steve could see it in their eyes. The police arrived then and questions had to be answered, statements taken. The whole time Steve kept bracing himself for that reset, wishing for it to happen but there was something deep inside of him which told him that it wasn't going to happen. It was over. This was how it ended.

It was past nine o'clock when Steve was finally able to go home. He walked into the Tower and headed directly up to his apartment. As soon as he walked into the door an anxious looking Olivia was right there, waiting for him.

She made a distressed sound at seeing him. "Steve, you're bleeding!"

Steve looked down, numbly registering the sight he must look. "It's not mine," he said quietly.

Olivia bit her bottom lip and without another word, closed the distance between them and wrapped her arms around his waist and hugged him tightly. Steve felt the tension leave his body as he sagged against her, holding her just as tightly to him.

"It's okay," said Olivia softly, stroking his back. "Whatever's happened, it's going to be okay."

Steve closed his eyes and just let the comfort of Olivia's presence wash over him. "I'm so tired, Liv," he said raggedly. Steve dropped his head into the crook of her neck. He knew he was going to tell her everything but right then Steve was just too exhausted, both emotionally and physically. He'd died at least fifty times that night and he'd watched people he cared about die as well. It was like this night had lasted a month and he was utterly spent.

"It's alright," she said quietly. "You're home now. You can rest. Everything is going to be alright." Olivia moved so that her arm was around his waist and she guided him to the sofa.

Steve sat down heavily and Olivia curled up next to him, leaning up against him as he put his arm around her. He knew he should change out of his bloodied clothes but right then the effort was beyond him. Steve let his head drop down so his cheek was resting on the top of Olivia's head and he breathed in the faint scent of her shampoo deeply. It was an incredibly comforting thing to do but he still couldn't shake the thoughts of the young woman who'd lost her life that night.

"Captain Rogers."

"Not now, Jarvis," said Steve tiredly. "Whatever it is, you can tell me in the morning."

"I have some information about the woman who was saved by Miss Knight, as you requested."

Steve frowned. "Is she alright, the baby?"

"Both have been fully checked out by EMT staff and found to be in excellent health, if somewhat taken aback by the experience."

"Good," said Steve hollowly, "that's good."

"The woman, Mrs. Rose Fairweather, formally Rose Peters of Boston—"

"Jarvis," sighed Steve, not really wanting to know anymore right now but then he stopped. "Wait, Peters?"

"Yes, sir."

"Is her father still alive?"

There was a short pause as Jarvis searched his data base. "No, sir. He was killed in a drowning incident when Mrs. Fairweather was a child. Her father was attempting to rescue another child who had fallen into the river but unfortunately he perished in the attempt, along with the child."

"Lily Knight," whispered Steve, unable to believe what he was hearing.

"That is correct, sir. Do you know the story?"

Steve slumped back against the sofa. "I do now," he said in wonder.

Olivia was looking at him in concern. "Steve?"

He shook his head at her. "I don't know if I can explain all of this to you," he said unevenly. "Tonight… it's just been one impossible thing after another… and now it makes some kind of weird, crazy sense." It was like circle had been completed somehow. Something that had been knocked out of kilter by Lily's death had been restored by Sandy's death and the saving of Rose and her unborn child.

"You can tell me later," said Olivia reassuringly. "It doesn't have to make complete sense tonight. Sometimes life is just like that. If we could explain everything, then it wouldn't be such a miracle."

Steve cupped her face and gave a small smile, overwhelmed by the woman in his arms. "I love you," he said earnestly, wishing he was saying those words to her under more romantic circumstances but needing to say them and know Olivia would remember them this time.

Her breath hitched a little and Olivia gave a tremulous smile. "I love you too, Steve," she said emotionally.

Steve leant down and kissed her, not knowing what the future held for them, only knowing that there finally was one after this endless night.

#

Tony looked up from behind the bar as Bruce walked back into the room. "How is he?"

"Better than last night. I think it helped having Olivia stay over. She has a very calming influence on Steve."

"You don't believe all that stuff about time loops and tonight resetting over and over again, do you?" asked Tony, looking at him intently.

Bruce grimaced. He knew what Tony was saying because the story Steve had told last night was the stuff of science fiction but then he'd said those two words which had Bruce second guessing his own assumptions about such a thing being possible.

Estelle Getty.

Bruce gave a little shudder, not knowing how Steve could have any idea what that name could mean if he hadn't told him.

"You know it's impossible," pushed Tony. "There is no such thing."

"I know not to make definitive statements about things I can't prove or disprove," said Bruce wryly. "I'm willing to keep an open mind. He knew about your helmet issue."

"Lucky guess."

"If that makes you feel better." Bruce took a seat and pulled out his newspaper.

"Why do you read those things?" asked Tony in exasperation. "They're archaic. Go on line like the rest of the universe."

"I like newspapers," said Bruce determinedly. "They reassure me."

Tony rolled his eyes. "You're a relic."

Bruce was just glad that they were no longer talking about Steve and by extension, there was no chance Tony would stumble across his little Estelle issue. He did not want to think of that kind of disaster that would be.

"Okay, whatever. While you're there doing nothing—"

"I'm reading."

"You can check out the magic trick which is going to win me Pepper's hand in marriage." Tony walked around from the bar, a lighter in hand.

"Stop asking Pepper to marry you, you insane lunatic," said Bruce irritably.

"I can't, I want to marry her, she needs to know that," snapped Tony.

"Pepper's a smart girl. I think she figured that out after the first thirty-eight proposals. Enough already. She'll marry you when she's ready… or lost the will to live. Whichever comes first."

"Hey, I'm a catch," snapped Tony.

"I know," said Bruce dryly, giving up on his paper and turning on the TV. "Like influenza… or bubonic plague."

"Sometimes I think you're like this because you're threatened by my sweeping awesomeness—"

"Nope."

"And then I think you just like being a generalized naysayer."

"I'm not the one saying nay, Pepper is," pointed out Bruce pragmatically. "I'm actually the one trying to give you advice about how to get the girl."

"Well, it's hard to hear you over the squeals of the many women you've gotten to marry you," said Tony sarcastically.

"I've never asked anyone," he said casually. "So technically I have a perfect score."

Tony wrinkled his nose. "What kind of logic is that?"

"What does it matter? You're hell bent on not listening to any kind of logic when it comes to Pepper."

"Getting Pepper to marry me is a numbers game," insisted Tony stubbornly. "It's like playing the lotto. You just keep putting your numbers in and eventually your number will come up."

"You do know the chances of winning those things are astronomical, right?" Bruce shook his head. "That's not a very encouraging analogy you've chosen for yourself."

"Look, I know what I'm doing," said Tony sharply. "Now, are you going to watch this magic trick or not?"

Bruce looked over at him hopefully. "You mean I get a choice?"

"No, of course you don't get a choice," said Tony irritably. "Why would you think that?"

"A momentary flash of optimism," said Bruce wryly. "Don't worry, it's gone now."

"Good. Now, pretend you're Pepper—"

"I can't see either one of us wanting that," said Bruce straight-faced.

"For the purposes of the demonstration only," said Tony in annoyance. "Now, brace yourself to be wooed the hell out of."

Bruce grimaced. "Only you could make romance sound like a cage fight, but go on."

Tony took out a gold lighter and held it up in front of him, he flicked it on so a single blue flame burst into life.

"Ohh," said Bruce, voice completely flat and devoid of excitement, "annoying man make fire. Most romantic thing ever. Take me now, big boy."

Tony gave him an unamused look. "Is that meant to be your Pepper impersonation? Pepper uses pronouns."

"Just trying to speed this thing up," said Bruce innocently.

"You can't rush greatness," sniffed Tony.

"Or rank stupidity either, it seems."

"Shut up and be prepared for me to impress your ass off," said Tony sharply.

Bruce sighed heavily. "I miss living under a bridge so much."

Tony ignored him and reignited the lighter with a flourish. "Okay, imagine you're Pepper…"

#

Steve smiled as Olivia handed him the last breakfast plate to dry.

She smiled back at him. "What?"

He gave a little shrug. "I don't know. This is nice."

"Washing and drying the dishes?" Olivia teased him. "Oh yeah, it's amazing."

"I think the main appeal is doing it with you," countered Steve and enjoyed watching the small flush color her cheeks. He bent down and kissed her, enjoying the moment of simple domesticity after all the anxieties and complexities of last night. Even after having gone through that date again and again, Steve had woken up this morning with a feeling like it had all been a dream but he knew it hadn't. Their kiss was interrupted by the sound of an alarm.

Olivia broke the kiss with the start. "What's that?"

"Fire alarm," said Steve with a frown. "Jarvis?"

"Sir?"

"What's with the alarm?"

"A small but containable fire has broken out in the recreation room, Captain."

Steve's frown deepened. "But it's under control now?"

"The buildings systems have all but contained the fire. There is no cause for alarm."

"What happened?" asked Olivia curiously.

"Mr. Stark was—"

"Okay," Steve interrupted him, "that's all we need to know. Nothing good ever comes out of sentences which start with Mr. Stark."

"Very good, sir."

Olivia gave a little laugh. "It's never a dull moment around here, is it?"

"Yeah," said Steve flatly, "that's what happens when you live with idiots."

"Tony is a genius," pointed out Olivia in amusement.

"Smart idiots are the biggest kinds of idiots," said Steve without hesitation. "Trust me."

Olivia moved in and wrapped her arms around his waist. "I do trust you."

Steve tucked a strand of blonde hair behind Olivia's ear and smiled. "What do you want to do today?"

Olivia smiled. "That's right, you owe me a date, don't you?"

Steve grimaced slightly. "Can we not use that word for a little while?" he asked unsteadily. "I kind of had my fill of dates last night."

"Oh, Steve," said Olivia contritely, "I'm so sorry. That was thoughtless of me."

He shook his head at her. "You could never be thoughtless, Liv, it's not in you." Steve gave a lopsided smile. "I'm just being overly sensitive."

"And you have every right to be," said Olivia sympathetically.

Steve cupped her face and brushed his thumbs back and forth over her cheeks and tried that again. "Miss O'Brien, would you do me the great honor of allowing me to escort you to the movies today?"

Olivia grinned. "I think that could be a definite possibility, Mr. Rogers."

She moved in to hug him and Steve immediately returned the gesture. He felt a lightness come over him and unbidden his thoughts turned to Sandy and he could only hope she was experiencing the same kind of peace he was in that moment.

Somehow, Steve felt like she was…

A/N: And there we have it, peeps, always leave 'em with a smile and/or the warm fuzzies. Hope that all made sense to you, more or less. One day I hope the muse will get around to penning another Avenger fic with the whole gang but we'll see how that goes. Thanks again for reading. :D