Although the boat had left the New York harbor hours ago, Evangeline still stood on the deck, her heels planted to the metal beneath her and her hands gripping the metal railing so hard her knuckles turned white. The shouting soldiers that flooded the ship's upper-most level had all disappeared below to their quarters, which wasn't much, just a room packed with bunk-beds. Though she was still in her blue dress, she didn't want to change into her own uniform just yet. Not when the fabric still smelled like her best friend.

The sound of footsteps approaching made her inwardly cringe and she began to brainstorm different excuses she could use this time to scare away any man who wanted to flirt, but the woman stopped when the man stood beside her and placed a gentle hand over her own, the same gentle hand that had caressed her cheek that morning. They didn't say anything for a long time, just stood there, staring at the watery horizon that once held the busy city of New York, thinking to themselves about what the future may hold.

"He'll be fine," Bucky was the first to speak when the silence was broken. His tone was reassuring, but she didn't buy what he was trying to sell her. Not one bit. 

"He's going to get beat up," She sighed. The sergeant beside let out a chuckle, but she wasn't in the mood for joking. "Did we do the right thing?" Evangeline took a deep breath, then moved her stare from the horizon to the churning water below them, dark and mysterious with no way of knowing what was hiding beneath the surface. "He wanted this so badly...Should we have stayed?"

"Angie, he wouldn't want us to deny an opportunity like this. He knows he can't live his dream, but he's the kind of guy that would cheer on the more capable people living it for him."

"You're right, you're right," She took another deep breath, which was followed by another long silence between the man and woman. Minutes passed and Bucky wondered if she wanted to be alone, if that was the reason she didn't want to talk, and was about to leave the deck when she quickly grabbed the hand he'd placed on her own before he could walk away. "Buck, can I ask you something?"

"Of course, you can. You always can," It was easy for Angie to note his enthusiasm, but she was used to that. He was always like an excited golden retriever whenever it came to helping people. Though he seemed to always keep his voice a little more tender around her, as if she were a frightened animal that needed to be approached with caution.

"If I don't make it back-"

"No."

His immediate denial caused her to jump with shock, but what startled her even more was the seriousness in his blue eyes. Faster than she could snap, he had transformed from a playful kid to a serious adult. Before she could stop him, he'd firmly gripped her shoulder with his right hand and placed his left beneath her chin, forcing her to look up at his face, just like she'd done to Steve after he'd been rejected again, although she'd been a lot brighter in that situation than Bucky was in this one.

"Don't even start with that crazy talk," the sergeant told her. "We are both coming home from this. I'm not leaving you behind, just like you'd never leave me. At the end of this war, we're all going to be home, together, sitting on that same damn rooftop, telling Steve all about the adventure's we'd had across the pond fighting Nazis. Understood?" She nodded her head and Bucky pulled her into a full embrace, wrapping his arms around her with her head pressed against his chest. "I won't let you think like that. Someday, when we're all old and married and have had kids, we'll be able to tell them that we helped fight off the scariest dictator in history to protect them and their rights. But I won't tell them anything if I'm the only one who comes home."

"Why not?" He heard her scoff. "If I end up going home alone, I won't be able to shut up about you to my kids."

"That's nice, they'll definitely want to know who their father was."

**********

That night after Evangeline had dressed into her mucus-green pants, white tank top, phlegm-colored  button-up t-shirt and matching coat (she'd said no to the white dresses the women always wore; she knew she didn't need to be ladylike where she was going), she lay awake in the bunk above Bucky's bed, unable to sleep as her mind got the better of her and began to wander like a goldfish with an attention disorder.

What had Steve said before they left? How much longer until they reached England? What's the worst possible injury that she would most-likely have to see on the battlefield? Was Bucky serious when he was talking about himself being the father of her children someday or was he just messing with her like he usually did? Did he really spend the night with those two women or was she just losing her mind? What was three-hundred fifty-nine divided by forty-seven? What if she tripped over a landmine and blew up? What if Bucky tripped on a landmine and blew up? What if they lost their limbs or ended up getting shot? Could she really successfully stitch up a bullet wound? What was the meaning of life? How many fingers was Steve holding up at that moment? What if Steve somehow tripped over a landmine in New York and blew up? What if New York was attacked and Steve, who should've been the safest out of the three of them, ended up dying instead? Could Howard Stark actually have enough of a mind to build a fully-operational flying car? What if-

That was it, she couldn't stand it anymore.

She needed to do something, anything to keep her mind off of the hellish craziness twisting and churning within her brain. 

So, with the stealth of a raccoon raiding a restaurant's garbage bins, Angie tried to be quiet (and failed) as she climbed down from the top bunk and cautiously tip-toed towards the door. If she'd woke up any of the other people in the room, she didn't stick around long enough to find out. In an instant, she'd grabbed her favorite book from beneath her pillow and bolted.

There was no way she could stay in that muffled cabin full of sleeping men, wreaking of feet and body-odor. Evangeline knew she'd have to deal with that eventually, since she'd be surrounded by dirty men as soon as they reached the front lines, but that's why she wanted to take advantage of this moment now, where she had the choice of whether or not she wanted to spend the next few hours laying on an uncomfortable mattress that was probably infested with bed bugs, or go outside where the crisp, cool night air kissed her nose and ears with each swaying breeze. 

Once she reached the ship's deck, which had transformed from a place of warmth where the sunlight made the metal glisten to a place of darkness that reflected each and every star in the sky, she was met with the sight of a man standing next to the railing already. As it turned out, she wasn't the only one who couldn't sleep.

For a short moment, she debated on whether or not she wanted to approach the man or disappear back into the smelly cabin, but then shook her head. Anything was better than being stuck with seven men who seemed to all pass gas in their sleep. So, with The Adventures of Tom Sawyer clutched to her chest, Angie walked across the deck 'til she was standing against the ship's railing, only a foot or two away from the stranger.

"Can't sleep, either?" She whispered kindly. The soldier gave a startled jump, but calmed down when he realized it was only a woman, not one of the Nazis he'd be forced to fight in a few hours. With an exhausted sigh, he scratched the back of his neck and nodded.

The soldier looked normal enough. He had short, dark hair that bordered being black and seemed to shine in the moonlight, bright green eyes, a nose that looked to have been broken once or twice in his past, and a tiny scar that reached over the right corner of his chapped lips. After further investigation, Evangeline noticed the ring on his finger and the tension seemed to erase from her body entirely.

"Nah," He started with a husky voice, then pulled out a pack of cheap cigars from his pocket, along with a lighter. He extended the pack towards her, offering her one, but she politely declined. the man shrugged, but didn't hesitate to light one of his own. "Something tells me I won't be getting much of it for a while."

"What's your name?" Angie questioned in hopes of getting a conversation started. 

"Richard," He took a big puff before blowing out a large cloud of smoke. "But my friends call me Richie. And you would be..."

"Evangeline," She smiled and extended her own hand, though she was only asking for a handshake and not a cigar. As a gentleman would, Richie didn't hesitate to accept her offer and placed his hand in hers. It was covered in calluses, undoubtedly from days of hard work and labor. "But my friends call me Angie."

"Pleasure to meet you," He smirked slightly before taking another puff. "Honestly, I'm surprised to see a woman on board. You a nurse?"

"Yes," She replied. "I'm joining the one-oh-seventh." Richie perked up a bit at the sound of that and raised an eyebrow.

"What a coincidence, same here. Looks like we'll be working together for the remainder of this damned war. Nice to know who's going to be stitching me up when I start bleeding out. You've had experience with this kind of stuff, right?" She nodded. "Good, I've got a wife and kids who want me back in one piece." He was joking, but Angie could still sense a bit of honesty in his words. 

"Wouldn't want to disappoint them."

Richie fished his free hand into his back pocket and pulled out an old, faded photograph. Though it was hard to see in the darkness, Angie turned to face one of the lights glowing from a port hole a few feet away and squinted at the picture. In it were four little boys and a baby girl being held by a beautiful woman with long, curled black hair. Angie grinned and handed him back the photo.

"They're beautiful. Is it hard taking care of five kids?"

As the night progressed, she continued to have pleasant conversation with Richie about New York, their favorite baseball teams, and everything else they'd left behind.