Like almost a third of the guys in his generation, Steve didn't have a soul mark. Neither did Bucky, and when the war broke out, they, like most guys, figured that was the reason. Couldn't meet your soul mate if you died in a muddy field in France. Of course, there were a few lucky ones who met their soul mates because of the war, their words etched in French or German or Dutch and spoken by a pretty girl during a horrible time.

Some guys didn't have a soul mark even though they would live through the war. It happened before, during the Great War. Guys came back with their soul's too broken from war to fully bond with anyone. They still fell in love, got married, had kids. They just never connected as deeply as those who had the first words of their soul mate printed on their bodies.

Steve had held out hope at first, the words didn't show until your soul mate was born, and he could be older than she was. But he gave up hope at about fifteen. There was an age gap, and then there was just being a creepy old man with a child bride.

When he met Peggy, he was surprised her first words weren't branded on him. There was such an instant connection, he had actually checked his body that night to make sure they hadn't miraculously shown up somewhere. When Bucky fell though... Well, he knew why neither of them had had marks. Bucky died never meeting his soul mate, and Steve felt a part of his own soul fall down that ravine with his best friend. Even if he was supposed to be with Peggy, he would never be a whole man again.

And when he pointed the plane's nose down to the cold, icy water below, he was glad there were no marks on him. He wasn't breaking a soul mate's heart by doing the one thing he had been created to do. Save the world.

Waking up after seventy years was a shock. It was somehow all so different, and yet exactly the same. He could handle the time warp he just went through, pretty much expected the science fiction type technology all around him, was not at all surprised that the tesseract was still an issue. The thing that threw him for a loop was the neat, girlish handwriting wrapping around his left ribs. That had definitely not been there before.

Did you just jump in front of a bullet for me? Wow, that's... Oh- Oh shit. I think you missed one. Oh god, that hurts!

He made it through the Chitauri invasion without jumping in front of any bullets. Not that the alien horde was even shooting bullets, but it had seemed like a rather fitting time to meet someone who was getting shot at. No such luck though.

After the Incident, he took some time off. Drove around the country, visited all the places he and Bucky had talked about, all the hometown's of the American Commandos. He didn't meet her, but then he wasn't really expecting to. He needed time. Time to get comfortable in his own skin, time to figure out what had happened in the last 70 years, time to get used to the idea that somewhere out there was someone who had his sloppy handwriting imprinted on her skin.

He'd lie awake at night sometimes, unwilling to sleep more, and think about her words. She would get shot, even though he tried to protect her. Was the universe cruel enough to take her away from him just as they met? He'd have to prepare for that. Try to learn all he could to save her if it came to that. He'd lost too much as it was.

He returned to New York just as summer faded into fall. He knew what he would do. He would return to Shield, take the job they offered, save the world one mission at a time, but first, he had a genius to see.

"Stark? You down here?"

"Is that the dulcet tones of the Star Spangled Man with a Plan I hear?"

Steve just huffed and gave a wry smile. Some things would follow him forever it seemed. "Yeah, that's me."

"What can I do for you, Cap? Shield need a refresh? Suit need some upgrades? Seriously, I know Shield has some good guys in R&D, but I'm better. I could make your suit half the weight with twice the stopping power."

Steve grinned as he finally located the billionaire on the floor of the lab, wearing grease stained tank top and jeans, rolling out from under something large and robot-like. "We can talk about the suit if you want, but I'm actually here for something else. Something rather... personal."

"Why, Cap! I'm flattered! Alright then, now, when a mommy and a daddy love each other very much..." Tony had the grace to sheepishly grin at Steve's hard look. "Sorry. Tamping down the sass for the next couple minutes. Talk fast."

Steve swallowed hard, then lifted his shirt up to show Tony the words along his ribs. Tony read them quickly, a genuine smile gracing his face for once. "Must have acquired those while you were in the ice," he noted.

"Yeah, something of a shock. I want something... something small I can carry around. Something that will close a wound or stabilize her until help can get there or something. I can't lose anyone else, Tony." Steve's voice cracked along the last sentence, his vulnerability seeping through the words.

"I hear ya. Give me a day. No, two days! I'll text you when it's ready. Just don't meet her until then, kay?"

"No promises, Stark. This is one thing I definitely don't have a plan for."

It was another two years before he met her. Two years of carrying Tony's tiny titanium emergency kit around in his pocket, during which time he received three upgrades and eleven replacements. In those two years, he also started working with Shield, moved to DC, befriended the red-headed assassin who tried to match-make him with everyone she knew, and finally destroyed the very agency they worked for. He also found out that Bucky was still alive.

His life now had two missions. Wait for her and find Bucky. With no leads on either, he moved back to New York, finally taking Stark up on the offer of rent-free accommodations in his massive tower. It was an easier adjustment that he had thought, since Nat and Sam moved in at the same time, Clint and Bruce were already there, and Tony's impending marriage to Pepper had calmed him down considerably.

It was a rather typical Tuesday morning. Steve had gone for a run, hit the gym for a bit, and was currently waiting for the elevator to arrive to take him back up to the common floor for breakfast. Jarvis was usually on top of the elevator timing, it would chime open just as Steve reached it. But this morning, he was just considering taking the stairs when a muffled explosion came from overhead and Jarvis' calm voice sounded out. "Captain, I believe your presence would be appreciated on the laboratory level. There are intruders."

Steve was halfway up the first set of stairs before Jarvis had finished speaking. The labs were full of SI employees, non-combatants who kept Tony's inventions in line and the rest of the Avengers decked out in cutting-edge body armor and weaponry. He paused outside the door to the laboratory floor, the gunshots ringing out from behind it. He had neither shield nor body armor on, but at least he could withstand a bullet better than a scientist.

He cautiously pushed the door open, finding the hallway beyond empty. Steve crept down the hallway, looking into each lab as he passed. They were all dark and empty, without anyone in sight. The gunshots had stopped. As he was passing between the third and fourth lab, a door opened and a dark haired young woman peered out. Seeing him in the hallway, she motioned behind her and a group of white-coated scientists emerged from the lab to her whispered urges, all of them heading towards him and the safety of the stairwell behind.

The young woman was at the back of the group, herding the scientists along like a sheep dog. Her brown hair tumbled down her back, a dark blue sweater, soft jeans and red converse with no socks completing her casual 'I'm not a scientist' outfit. She had just come level with Steve, who opened his mouth to thank her for scientist corralling, when three gunmen came around the corner.

They opened fire without warning, and Steve jumped in front of the young woman, feeling the impact of the bullets along his side as he pushed her down. Grabbing at a fire extinguisher mounted along the wall he threw it side-armed at the attackers, watching as it ricocheted off the first one and into the second. The third seemed to find something better to do and ran down the hallway they had come from, leaving his partners unconscious on the ground.

Steve turned back to the young woman, who smiled in a dazed sort of way. "Did you just jump in front of a bullet for me? Wow, that's... Oh- Oh shit. I think you missed one. Oh god, that hurts!"

Even though he had known she was going to say those words before she opened her mouth, hearing them aloud made his stomach clench in fear. Pulling the little emergency tin from the pocket of his workout pants he knelt down next to her as she pressed a small hand to the spreading blood on her abdomen.

"Don't worry, doll. I've been preparing for this moment for a long time."

Her mouth fell open for a moment, before she started to laugh and cry at the same time. "Of course, that's what it would mean." He pulled up her sweater to find the bullet wound, and found the small, bleeding hole in her side, neatly surrounded by two concentric arcs with his words to her in his own untidy handwriting.

Don't worry, doll. I've been preparing

for this moment for a long time.

"I'm Steve," he said, starting to close the wound.

"Darcy," she replied. "Nice to finally meet you."

"You too, soulmate. It's been a long time coming." Her answering smile was like a thousand sunrises and he knew that waiting ninety-something years for her had all been worth it.