Music is "Burning House" by EZA featuring Aaron Krause.

Picture is Blake Lively as Rose Dugan.

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CHAPTER FIVE: Dream A Little Dream of Me

{June 21, 1947 - Sixty-Five Years Ago}

"You may now kiss the bride!"

Smiles and clapping fill the air on Centre Island Beach. A photographer snaps pictures of the beaming bride and groom. Several dozen people surround them, standing on soft sand and pebbles. Rose wears a typical 1940s wedding gown with a pink rose bouquet. Dum Dum stands beside her, arm hooked around hers, a huge smile on his cheery face.

I clap and smile as they exchange another kiss, their second as a married pair. Peggy stands beside me, her smile as wide. Her lover, Daniel Sousa, is to her left. Howard and his butler, Edwin Jarvis, as well as Howard's lady friend, Maria, and Jarvis' wife, Ana, came as well. They've come all the way from Los Angeles to see Rose and Dum Dum finally exchange vows.

It was a simple ceremony. Rose asked me to walk her down the aisle. She didn't want bridesmaids or groomsmen. She wanted family and friends. Little did she know that with the large Dugan family, that meant at least fifty people.

"About time, Dugan!" Jim Morita shouts from the front row on the opposite side of the aisle. "We didn't think you'd ever have the guts to marry her!" Everyone watching the wedding bursts into laughter.

Dum Dum points a finger towards his old friend, smiling still. "You're not gonna ruin today, Jim! Not today!" The laughter only increases at the groom's response.

Rose grabs her husband's arm, tugging him down the aisle towards the open beach cabana reception. Like the ceremony, they had decided to do something small and personal. So punch and cake it was. Although, I'm confident certain that Howard bought the most expensive champagne he could find to send off his fellow inventor. "C'mon, everyone!" she shouts to the audience as she and Dum Dum weave through the people. "Time for cake!"

Everyone follows their lead. Peggy, Howard, and I follow first. We bring with us Mr. and Mrs. Jarvis, Daniel, and Maria. After that, the Howling Commandos file behind us: Gabe, Jim, Monty, and Frenchie. Then the entire Dugan family. Among them are Dum Dum's parents, Frank and Leanne. His older brothers are here as well: Keith, Bill, Dan, Ed, Hugh, George, and Paul. Last but not least, his younger brother, Dobias.

The band starts to play, filling the open space with lively music. Punch is served, and the cake is cut. Rose can't wipe the smile off her face. I know I must have looked the same after my own wedding three years ago. I find a quiet place to sit on the porch, sipping a glass of tropical punch. I watch Dum Dum and Rose have their first dance to a slow, big band tune.

"What're you doing over here all by yourself?" Howard asks, walking up to me with a glass in his hand. "May I?" He motions to the chair next to mine at the small table in the dimly lit corner of the porch.

I nod. "Sit, please." He takes a seat and awaits my answer. I sigh, running my finger along the edge of the glass. I stare into the liquid as if it might have the answers. "Today has been a difficult day. The wedding and everything. I didn't want to ruin Rose's special day, not because I'm feeling nostalgic."

Howard nods, and his dark eyes meet mine in an empathetic glance. "I know how you feel. I miss them, too." He reaches over to give my hand a squeeze.

I smile in return, thanking him in silence. As he draws his hand back, I spot his friend Maria by the cake stand. She's a pretty blonde woman with impeccable fashion taste. "Maria, is it?" I ask, changing the subject.

Howard nods. "Yes. She's somethin', isn't she?"

When I look at him, I expect to see him casually looking at her, much like he's done many other women in the past. But his face surprises me. It's full of love and admiration. I raise an eyebrow in surprise. "Howard Anthony Stark! You're falling for her hard, aren't you?" I playfully punch him in the shoulder.

Then Howard does something I've never seen him do in the five years I've known him: he blushes. His eyes avert Maria, looking anywhere but at her or me. "Yeah, she's somethin' special, Emma. I haven't felt like this with other women, and you know how many of those I've been...friendly with."

I laugh, taking a sip of the punch. "I'll say."

"But Maria...she's different. She's kind and beautiful and smart. But she's also stubborn and she will put me in my place when I'm arrogant or selfish." He shakes his head in awe. "It's been a year. I think I love her, Emma. I'm scared, though. I've never put my heart on the line like this."

I place a gentle hand over Howard's. "It's okay to love, Howard. Letting someone close is a beautiful thing. Enjoy it." I look over to Maria, seeing her dancing by herself to the high-paced jig that's now playing. "Go dance with your girl," I tell him, nodding to Maria. "Go have fun."

He stands with a nod, pointing at me with a playful glint in his eye. "You owe me a dance later, okay? Don't you go skippin' off. Got it?"

I nod with a chuckle. "All right."

Howard gives a wink, then runs off towards his dame. I finish the punch in my glass, looking down at the wedding band on my finger. "You should be here," I whisper to the memory of my husband as "Dream A Little Dream of Me" begins to play. "You both should be here."

Before I have any time to add to those dreadful thoughts, I hear a familiar English accent shout, "Emma! Come dance, darling!" My head perks up, and I see Peggy walking over towards me, a hand out stretched. Her bright smile beckons me. "Come on! Don't just sit in the corner all evening. It's time to celebrate."

I wave her on. "Ah, Peg. I'm not really in the mood."

She rolls her eyes. "That's the point of dancing, silly. To make that cloud over your head disappear. Now, I won't take no for an answer." She pauses, adding, "Dance for those who can't, all right?"

I sigh, standing to my feet. "Since you won't leave me be, all right."

She gives a friendly wink, taking my hand in hers. "Besides, the bonus points go to you for making my Daniel jealous."

I snicker as I see Daniel Sousa leaning against the bar, half talking to Edwin Jarvis and half looking at Peggy and I. "Jealous? Of me? You're daft."

"I rarely dance with him."

"Why--? Oh. I see." I stop myself mid-sentence, recalling her last words with Steve. "What makes me so special then?"

She turns to me, joining our hands and placing her right on my waist. I place mine on her shoulder. "We're sisters," she grins. "That's a bond no man can understand, yes?"

I smile, and the music picks up pace. "Let us dance then, Sister."

Peggy smiles widely at me, then as the band begins to play "In The Mood," we take off. She leads me, and I can't help the smile that forms across my face. Rose and Dum Dum dance to my left. Howard and Maria to my right. The warm Summer Solstice evening brings a breeze from the ocean. Long Island has never been so much fun.

Peggy spins me around, much like Bucky used to do, and dips me low at the end of the song. I come up, my dark hair defying gravity for a split second. I brush it back into place. Peggy laughs, her entire body moving as she does. "You're a great dancer!"

"You're doing all the work!" I reply.

Daniel Sousa walks over towards us, a pleasant smile on his face. He holds out a hand towards Peggy, turning to me to ask, "Mind if I cut in for a dance?"

I wave my hand, trying to catch my breath. "Of course! You two love birds have fun. I need a drink!"

Peggy places a hand on my shoulder, nodding her hand towards the bar. "Howard brought champaign from Paris. Go steal a glass for us both, will you, darling?"

I nod, leaning forward to hug her. "Thank you, Peggy. I needed that."

She places a hand on my back, a sisterly gesture. "Of course, Emma."

I pull back, turning towards the bar. Suddenly, the music turns from a major key to a minor. It starts to slow, twisting into a nightmare of a tune. The people around me slow, their faces frozen in the joy of the evening. The colors start to fade into greys. It seems I'm the only one free to move and change.

"Most everyone here is dead," a voice inside my head tells myself. It's my own voice, my own demons taunting me. "You've outlived them all."

I cover my ears, squeezing my eyes closed. "I've tried to die. I've tried!"

"And those who aren't are knocking at death's door."

"Open your eyes, Emma."

The second voice is one I know all too well. I do as he says, opening my eyes to see my diseased husband in front of me. Tears fall hard, and I mumble, "Bucky."

Bucky stands a few meters away in the darkness. He wears a bloodied Howling Commandos uniform. His eyes are dead and vacant. He speaks, but it's like he's a puppet, the strings tugged and controlled by my own insecurities. "I'm alive, and you know it."

"No, you're not!" I shout, shaking my head swiftly. "You're not! I looked for you. You were a ghost story, a lie to hurt me!"

"I'm alive, and you know it. I'm alive, and you know it." He keeps repeating the same thing over and over.

I cover my ears, letting a blood-curdling scream loose. "You're dead! You're dead! I watched you die!"

"Why did you let me fall? You could've survived the fall. You let me fall. I'm alive, and you know it!"

"I should have died with you!"

·•·•·•·•·•·•·•·•·•·•·

{May 4, 2012 - Present Day}

I wake to the feeling of someone's strong grip on my arms. I shake awake in a cold sweat, tears flowing from my eyes. My words from my dream, or maybe it was a memory, still on my tongue. "I should have died with you," I mumble, half-coherent. "I should have.... I should have...."

Steve is above me, his eyes searching my face for something. They're frightened, wide with fear. "Emma! Emma, it's me. It's Steve."

My terrified grey eyes search for something real, something safe to grasp onto. They find safety in Steve's concerned expression. "Steve," I whisper.

The bedroom door flies open, and Grant rushes inside. His face is full of panic. "Mom!" He hurries over to the side of the bed, looking me over for injuries or signs of pain. "Are you okay? Are you hurt?"

I shake my head, unable to speak. "It was a nightmare," Steve replies, breathing even again.

Grant leans down beside my side of the bed, reaching for my hand. His dark eyes still look unconvinced. "Tell me what to do, Mom."

I swallow my fear, telling him, "Go back to sleep. It was just a nightmare. I have had them before and I will have them again. No need for you to lose sleep over it."

Grant shakes his head. "Are you sure?"

I nod, giving a half-smile. "Go back to sleep."

Grant nods, returning the small smile. He wraps his arms around me for a brief embrace, whispering, "I love you, Mom. It was just a dream. They can't hurt you."

I take a shaky arm and wrap it around his back. "I love you, too, Grant."

Grant leaves the room, shutting the door behind him. I break down into sobs as soon as he's out of hearing range. Steve lays on his side, pulling me into his chest. His arms surround me like protective iron bars. He runs a hand through my messy blonde hair, whispering comforting words to me as I sob into the material of his T-shirt. He knows there's nothing he can say, yet he tries anyways.

After I regain some composure stifling my sobs down to a small sniffle, Steve whispers, "I heard you scream. When I woke up, you were thrashing around, crying, shouting things."

"What did you hear?" I ask, barely above a whisper.

"You said you tried to die," he replies. "Then you cried Bucky's name." I close my eyes, knowing what he heard after my husband's name. "Then you started shouting about how you looked for him. You said, 'You were a ghost story, a lie to hurt me.' After that, it was more screaming and more, 'You're dead, you're dead. I watched you die.'" He sighs. "When I woke you up, you were screaming that you should've died with him."

"So you heard everything," I conclude.

Steve nods against the pillow. "What did you mean you tried to die?"

"I watched my friends and family die," I whisper. "I didn't want to be around to watch Rose and Peggy go. I just couldn't. So in 1991, after Howard and Maria died in the car crash, I put a gun in my mouth." I swallow hard. "I woke up a year later in St. Mary's Hospital in Brooklyn, completely fine."

Steve sighs breathes a heavy sigh, tightening his arms around me. He places a kiss on my forehead, whispering, "Oh, Emma."

"I can't die. After that day, I didn't try it again. I suppose that is part of the reason Peggy called me about Grant after 9/11. She knew I needed a reason to live. I had her, Rose, Dum Dum, but she knew that I would be around long after they died."

There's a few minutes of silence as Steve processes this. He loosens his grip on me, allowing me to rest in his arms. His hand rubs patterns on my waist as he contemplates. If it weren't for this, I might've thought he'd fallen asleep.

"You looked for Bucky, you said," he asks suddenly.

I nod once. "When I moved to Germany to become a S.H.I.E.L.D. intelligence officer, I heard rumors that a body had been pulled from the ravine in the Alps around the time we were there. A part of me believed that it might have been Bucky, that maybe I could find his body or burial and take him home."

"You never did."

I nod in response. "Like I said, it was a ghost story. I looked for years and found nothing. Whoever started that myth knew that I was in Germany and that I would go looking for him. All I found was more lies and Nazis who thought that me hurting was hilarious. They were playing mind games, and I fell for it. I suppose some part of me was still in denial that he had even died."

"I'm so sorry," he replies, placing a peck on my hairline. "Do you really wish you had died with him?"

"I used to." I snuggle into his chest, wrapping my arms around his waist. "Not anymore."

·•·•·•·•·•·•·•·•·•·•·

Though none of us slept very well the rest of the night, in the morning, everything seems better. Steve decides to try his hand at making breakfast, Grant heads to the library in Manhattan, and I pretend that I'm back in 1942. The only thing missing was my James.

Evelyn wags her tail at my feet as I toss her a piece of bacon. Fury had an agent go back to Paris and pick her up. I couldn't leave her there. I scratch her ear and smile as she scarfs down the meaty treat.

"I think we should take a train down to D.C. to see Peggy," I state after my usual morning cup of tea.

Steve looks at me with surprise as he flips a pancake. "She'll think I'm a stranger," he replies, looking back to his breakfast. "She doesn't know me."

"She will," I insist. "Every now and then she remembers Grant and I. Rose visits every few months, too. She usually remembers people she knew a long time ago quite well after a few minutes of conversation. She might forget after a bit, but Peggy's still in there."

Steve nods without words, handing me a plate of pancakes. "Okay. After breakfast, we head to D.C."

·•·•·•·•·•·•·•·•·•·•·

Steve, Grant, and I head into the private nursing home where Peggy has spent the past few years. Steve shuffles behind me as I lead us to Peggy's room. I knock on the door. "Come in," the old English woman's voice replies.

I walk in first, smiling at the sight of the ninety-one year old who is as beautiful today as she was in the 40s. "Hello, Peggy."

Her grin widens as she sits in her reading chair by the window, The Wizard of Oz in her lap. "Emma, darling!" she exclaims. "It's so good to see you!"

I walk over to her, hugging her tight. "It's great to see you as well, Peg. How have you been?"

"Just fine, just fine." She pulls back. "How are you? How's that boy of yours? How's Greg?"

My smile falters a bit. "You mean Grant?"

She shakes her head, sighing. "I've done it again, haven't I? Grant, yes, I'm so sorry. Silly old me."

I shake my head and chuckle. "It's okay, Peggy. We all make mistakes. I can't recall my own age half of the time." She laughs, her brown eyes smiling. "I've come to give you a present."

"What have you done now? Spoiling me, you old friend. What is it?"

"It's more of a who," I reply, turning towards the door. "You can come in now."

Steve pushes the door open, walking in with hesitation. He smiles at Peggy. "Hey, Peggy," he says, his voice full of love.

"Steve," she whispers to herself, her eyes wide. I help her stand from her chair. Steve walks over to her, and she starts crying. "You're--You're alive!"

Tears fill Steve's eyes as he lets her hold onto him by his forearms. "Yeah, Peggy. It's me." She no longer needs me for stability, so I tip-toe towards the exit, allowing them to reunite in private.

"It's been so long!" she exclaims, sniffling as she hugs him as tight as she can. "So long!"

I close the door, seeing a smiling Grant leaning against the wall ahead. "She remembers," he grins.

I return the smile. "For now, she does, and that's all we can ask for I suppose." Another figure enters the nursing home hallway, the same man who broke into our house in Paris. Nick Fury strides up to the two of us, a serious expression on his face. I cross my arms and give a scowl. "Does your trench coat do that flowing thing naturally, or do you have it levitated with Stark tech?"

"You think you're hilarious, don't you?" he replies in a sarcastic tone.

"And I think you're rude. What are you doing here? This is a private reunion."

Fury gives me a side-eye look. "I came here to ask for Rogers help, if he be willing."

"You came all this way to ask him something you could've asked when we were in Manhattan?" Grant asks, just as perplexed as I am.

"I work a block away, son," he turns to glare at me, "but your mother here knows that, don't you? You were on the ground level when the Triskellion was being built. Hell, you helped christen the damn thing when it was finished."

"Steve isn't ready to help anyone yet, Fury," I reply, ignoring his snide comments. "He isn't fully recovered. It's only been less than a week for him since he went into the ice. He needs time, lots of it."

"My people say he's perfectly healthy."

I tap my head. "I mean the mind, Director. His mind is damaged. He's a victim of a war. He's going to have PTSD and anxiety."

"You mind if I ask him what he wants?"

I groan, "He doesn't even know about PTSD. They didn't have a name for mental disorders in the 40s. You were either shell-shocked or a coward. Steve is neither. You can't just throw someone like that back into the ringer."

"Who said I--"

"--Again with the underestimating my intelligence. I worked for S.H.I.E.L.D. when you were in diapers, Fury. Hell, I co-founded her, so don't talk to me as if I'm one of your subordinates. What do you want Steve for?"

"Y'know, Director Carter used to say you were only of the nicest people she ever knew."

I frown. "Age does terrible things to the soul. And I am nice, but not to someone who wants to put my friend back on the battlefield. Or to someone who followed me and my son around Paris. Yeah, I know it was you at Notre Dame."

"You figured that out, did you? Congratulations. What do you want, a medal?"

"Disappearing in that dead-end alley was a pretty nifty trick. How did you do it?"

"Trade secret." Fury pauses, heaves a heavy sigh, then tugs a file from his trench coat. "There was an accident at a S.H.I.E.L.D. facility last night. Someone broke in, stole something very valuable, and then blew up the entire place. We lost a lot of people. I need the Captain's help to track this mad man down and stop him before her hurts other people."

I take the folder from Fury, flipping through it. I see photographs of a dark haired man with a glowing scepter. Another of a destroyed facility. There's more redacted information that's blacked out than actual words, but I can figure most of what it's saying. "Loki Laufeyson. Who in the name of the King is that?"

Fury sighs. "It's a very long story."

I hand the file back to the Director. "I think you can handle it."

"Not to be rude, Mrs. Barnes, but I wasn't asking you."

"And I'm not letting you ask Steve," I reply, shortly. "Hasn't he done enough for this country? For the world? You may have forgotten his sacrifice because it was before your time. You may think he owes you something more. But I was there when he died, Director. I lived through it all. He has done plenty, and it's my job as his friend to make certain no one hurts him. No one." I nod my head towards the opposite end of the hallway. "I think it's best if you leave."

Fury's eye locks onto mine, daring me to move. I stand in front of the door, arms crossed. He relents, beginning to walk down the other end of the hallway. "If you change your mind, you know where to find me."

After he's out of earshot, an awestruck Grant turns towards me. His mouth is in the shape of the letter "O," and he laughs like he's seen something amazing. "That...was...awesome! I never knew you could be so bad ass."

My face turns back to a friendly expression. I walk over to the fifteen year old Korean boy, wrapping an arm around his shoulders. "I am quite polite usually, you know."

"Oh, I know," Grant replies in a teasing tone. "You're a pushover when it comes to most things."

I raise an eyebrow, jabbing a finger into his rib cage. "Say that again, you tosser!" He cackles automatically as I find his ticklish spot. "I dare you!"

"Okay, okay! Truce!"

I stop tickling and lean back against the wall with arms crossed, a satisfied grin on my face. "I win."

Grant huffs a sigh, copying my stance against the wall. "You always win 'cause you don't play fair."

END CHAPTER FIVE: Dream A Little Dream Of Me.