I redid this a little. Got some help so hopefully its better now. :)

Crimsonbloodwitch: Hope you like this one too! Side note this chapter title should sound familiar. It's been mentioned before. Hehehe :]

"Doll, what're you doing down there?" She raised a hand to her head, it stung horribly. She massaged at her temples. A hand was waiting for her and she hesitated. He was familiar as looked down at her but the name escaped her. He wore an old military uniform, his hat cocked slightly and his voice spoke with concern. She could see that this was a different time. She wore a knee length navy skirt and a white blouse with a pair of nylons and beige heels. Her eyes squinted and her brows furrowed. She raised a hand to her face and then between them

"What's-" He grabbed her hand and helped her up, wrapping an arm around her waist.

"We gotta go pick up our girl," he said. "We're already late."

"Wait, what?" He shook his head with a snort, stopping in front of her to check her head.

"Must've been a harder fall than I thought," he ran his fingers over the crown of her head. "Your heel got caught in the sidewalk." She placed a hand on her face and noticed she was wearing makeup. Pale powder stuck in the map of her fingertips with a pinkish red rouge. Mascara clumped on her lashes. He stared at her dumbfounded. "Now you're messin' up your lipstick! What happened to wanting to look spiffy?"

"Spiffy for what?" He laughed.

"I told Becky and Ma that you'd lose your mind being in that kitchen all day, everyday. You just ain't that kinda woman." Her brows knitted and she pursed her lips as he laughed. "It's date night! Stevie's watching the kids."

She repeated the last sentence, elongating the words questioningly. She added, "something's off."

"Wow, you're real wacky today," he dragged her by the arm. "We gotta get Millie. Oh, hey look there's Steve!"

"You picking up yours too," Steve shouted from across the street. The brunette laughed, waving him over.

"Hows little Joey? I haven't seen him around the block much."

"He's been helping Peggy around the house. Number two is on the way so he knows I need all the help I can get," he said with a laugh. "You guys are losing to us!"

"I know Ma keeps chasing Evie and I down with 'I want a grandson' this and that. I keep telling her these things take time," he spoke with an exhausted edge to his voice. "Even then Millie just turned seven!"

They walked up to the school, the men spoke to each other their sharing old stories. He kept his arm around her, looking at her every so often with a twinkle in his eyes and a smile plastered across his face.

She tried to keep her emotions controlled when the bell rang. A deep breath in and she held it until she ran out. The little girl with a pink ribbon in her brown ringlets, a purple plaid dress behind her as she ran, clutching something close to her.

"Hey Mama, I-" She didn't get the chance to speak as she pulled her into a hug. She forced nagging feelings down into the pit of her stomach. She wanted to enjoy this moment.

"How was school today, Cherie?" Genevieve asked her, placing a hand on each of her shoulders. Her father smiled as he scrunched her hair. It should've been like this.

She couldn't begin to describe how perfect this all was.

"I won the Science Fair," she exclaimed, holding up a poster board with detailed pictures of constellations. "Uncle Steve helped me draw em' too." She pointed to a sloppily drawn centaur. Her father chuckled.

"They've gotta learn," he muttered to the blonde. A boy with mousy blonde hair darted out of the building, bright blue eyes identical to his father's. "Look, it's little Joey."

"Ew. Cooties," the boy said as he looked at Millie. She tilted her head at him, intrigued with a slight blush on her cheeks.

"Flynn doesn't think I have cooties," she muttered, looking over at a boy with messy dark hair and thick glasses.

"That's cause you've got a crush," he crossed his arms over his chest, his lower lip jutting out. She watched as her father's eyes widened.

"No way, you're too young and-"

"And he has to ask you first," she said, rolling her eyes.

"Exactly." They spoke for a little while, Genevieve just watched them with a smile, laughing at the kids every so often. This was perfect. They were both there.

"Evie, ya coming back to us?" He asked, still jovial as he nudged her. "Stevie's gonna walk the kids home so we can get on with tonight." He winked at her making her turn a pale pink. She smiled and took his arm, waving as the children and Steve walked away. They walked quietly through the streets of Brooklyn. He pointed to old cars as they drove past and the alleyways he had saved Steve in. All of it felt like a lifetime ago. It was charming, everyone seemed so happy. The world was painted in pastels, women with gloved hands and men in suits. Occasionally they'd tip their hats at him and thank him for his service, noticing his crisp uniform. It was hard for her to not smile, it hurt her cheeks by the time they walked to the theater. Nothing felt right though. The lights were blinding as she looked at it. She raised a hand in front of her face, shielding herself from their rays.

"Two for To Catch a Thief please?" He asked, bending down so he could make eye contact with the teller. Her eyes blinked, she shouldn't have been here. She should've been in Asia traveling to Vietnam. It was going to start soon. Puffs of orange and the screaming children.

The two dogs barking at ghosts.

"You two are so cute," the older woman exclaimed. "When did you get married? I remember when you were just a little fella!"

"Got hitched to this lovely lady," he pulled her closer, his hands around her hips," during the war. She was a nurse . I found a proper European woman even got her a fancy parisian ring." He laughed, holding her hand. The woman nodded, smiling at his antics. She looked at her left hand and saw nothing on her ring finger. He pulled her into the building, releasing her hand. Her eyes went to his left arm and saw his hand glinting in the theater's lighting. She stood still as she tried to piece everything together.

He went to the concession stand, buying a bag of popcorn and a bottle of soda. She leaned against the wall, looking at the filigree of the ceiling above them. Everything seemed darker, the bright yellow of the signs was now a dusty stained brown. The lights flickered as he walked back. He dropped the bag as he saw her slip onto the floor.

It was empty and covered in ants as it hit the burgundy carpet.

"We should go home," she stuttered out to him as she tried to stand up with him. He looked at her in confusion. This wasn't right. The feelings rose back from her gut, spilling through her mouth before she could even think.

The soda bottle was stained, the label tore off.

"What're you talking about? The movies gonna start soon!" He lead her by the hand, "you're acting so screwy today, doll. I don't know what's gotten into you."

"It's not right!" Tears were pooling in her eyes. "Who even are you?!"

None of this was apart of the deal.

He cupped her face in his hands, one cold and one warm. A metal finger brushed a stray tear away. "Doll, it's me, your.." His lips moved but no sound came out. She shook her head in disbelief. Everything should've been okay, this is what she always wanted. Uneasiness consumed her. He pulled her into his chest, heat radiating off of him. "Shhh, Evie, shhh. Let's talk this out."

They walked over by the theater and turned into a door that had stairs that lead to the projector booth. Before he could even it his lips slammed against hers. She pulled away in confusion before he began cradling the back of her head in his hand, forcing her closer. It was needy, they hadn't been this way in so long. They were waves against one another until he pulled away breathless.

Butterflies fluttered in her core. The fear remained in the background as she tried to enjoy whatever she had been thrown into.

"Doll, I-"

"Don't," she muttered, leaving kisses along his neck. "I'm sorry." Her fingers trailed down to the buttons of his coat, popping them open. "I shouldn't have gotten so worked up. I'm just scared"

He placed his hands on her shoulders and pushed her blouse down around her elbows, the buttons sliding open.

"Of what?" He asked as his coat fell to the ground with a heavy thud, the metal echoing off the tile. His hands went to her thighs and cupped her bottom under the thick twill of her skirt as he held her up to his body. Long speckled legs hugging his waist. His body pinned her against the wall behind her.

"Losing you all over again."

"I'm here, Evie. I always have been." He ran a hand through her curls.

He put kisses down her neck and collarbone, leaving little marks in his awake. His teeth nipped at the skin of her breast before pushing it out of the cup of her bra, teasing it with the tip of his tongue. She moaned and he placed a hand over her mouth.

"You're too loud, Doll," he laughed as other his hand went between them and pushed up her skirt. The one over her mouth snaked it's way under her bottom, squeezing lightly as he rubbed her through the lace of her panties. She grinded against him, biting her lower lip, a bright flush spreading across her freckled face.

She could hear people arguing in the booth above them

This isn't what we agreed upon-

Does it matter anymore?

I didn't know about the girl!

She grinded against him harder, a gasp leaving her mouth. He leaned into her shoulder, whispering.

"You're so wet. I've barely touched you, Evie." Her hand touched his face.

"You're real," she muttered, looking into his steely blue eyes. He smiled, his hands on her shoulders.

"Of course I'm real," he snorted, kissing her again as a finger made it's way past the lace and against her entrance.

You waited over a hundred years! She wasn't supposed to get attached to these people!

She moaned into his ear as he grabbed one of her hands with his free one, pushing further and picking up his pace. Hers went down to the bulge of his uniform, opening the button with her thumb. "Please," she whispered. He lined himself up with her, forcing her panties to the side. His hand grabbing both her hands and putting them over her head. She squirmed as his length slowly made it's way inside of her, adjusting to him. He panted as he went in small thrusts, taking his time and making sure she was comfortable. She gasped as he went completely out and them slammed back into her, her head knocking against the wall. The sound of one of her heels hitting the ground rang in her ears.

Her eyes dazed, getting hazy from the force of his movements.

When her vision returned his hair had grown, brushing against his shoulder, his shirt gone. The red star shinning under the dim lights. She couldn't see the features of his face but could hear his voice as he whispered sweet nothings to her. He didn't have his strong accent anymore. This wasn't her sweet Sergeant.

Their grunts filled the alcove as the people above them continued to bicker. He grunted as he began going faster into her.

"Sstop," she moaned, it hurt. She felt like he was ripping her open. "Please, that's too much."

He grunted, tearing off her blouse. His pace only quickened. Her garters snapped off her nylons. His metal hand tore off her bra next, it hung on the sides of her frame as her cleavage spilled out.

It looked like he smiled. She tried to scream but he placed a finger in her mouth, muffling her. When he finished, he let her fall down and said something to her in Russian. She could feel him dripping down her thighs she stood back up.

She knew this man's name.

This isn't what she wanted. She darted up the stairs, kicking a heel down the staircase below her as she went. He was no longer in his uniform, the khaki pants now replaced with his black tactical suit. Her hands went to conceal herself with the shreds of her blouse.

She slammed her hands against the door to the projector room. Two men were arguing inside.

This isn't what my family wanted! Look at how much pain she's been in since you left her here!

You think the alternative would've been better then.

"Asset. Stop please-" She screamed as he closed the distance between them. He grabbed her forearms and roughly forced her face against the glass window on the door. She could hear him pull out a knife as he cut through her skirt. The material fell at her feet as he yanked at her hips.

The shirt was shreds in his hands as threw the rest of it onto the floor as well. His fingers ran over the wounds on her back.

Longing.

He tied her hands behind her back, her fingers still trying to push him away.

Rusted,

Seventeen,

"Please, stop. Please stop who's saying those words," she begged as he looked into her eyes.

His eyes said one thing to her: we can never go back.

Daybreak,

Furnace,

"Stop," she screamed as his hands made her legs tremble, they went back to the bundle of her nerves between them. His length brushed up against her. Neither one of them had ever wanted this.

She gasped as he pushed through her warmth again, her legs buckling underneath her with every thrust. Her body wasn't ready for this. She wasn't done healing. They hadn't fixed her insides yet.

Nine,

Benign,

She tried to pull her hands against the cloth in a feeble attempt to rip it. He grabbed her wrists in one hand and held her to him. This never should have been them. No one should've had to resort to this. They should've lived their quaint life in Brooklyn far away from this.

She screamed at him but he said nothing, his hand holding her up by her abdomen. She wanted this to be over with. Tears welled up in her eyes as she felt her core tightening.

"Not yet," he said.

Homecoming,

"Not until I tell you too." He forced her back against his chest, slowing down from the torturous pace.

One,

"Now," he grunted, the hand on her abdomen reaching up. She could feel his fingers around her neck as she woke. gasping for air.

Freight Car.