"What about the rest of the world? Doesn't it ever wake you up in the middle of the night? That one day they'll come for you...?" -Erik Lensherr; from X-Men Apocalypse (2016)

Present Day; 2014

By the time she regained her consciousness, she felt loopy. Her body was stiff, there was an all-too-familiar chill throughout her body. Her medical evaluations deemed her healthy, as usual. She'd been hooked up to monitors, hoping to keep track of her breathing, blood pressure, and heartrate. The steady beeping of the machines served as the only background noise.

When her vision cleared, she flickered her eyes around. She was in a room that almost perfectly mirrored one found in a hospital. It was white, clean, the fluorescent lights were almost blinding. It smelled like cleaning fluids, almost nauseatingly so. Taking a deep breath, she felt a slight burning sensation in her nose. How long had she been in the cryotube?

"We have a new mission for you." A man's voice snapped her out of her thoughts. She hadn't heard him come in. Closing her eyes for a moment, she took another breath before letting it out. She obviously needed time to reacquaint herself with her senses. "You are H.Y.D.R.A.'s only option. Should you fail this mission, it would not only cost us dearly, but it would be disastrous for you."

There was a long silence. She didn't bother speaking; she hardly ever did, not with the agents. If the man even was one.

"Operation Insight failed," he went on. "Alexander Pierce has been terminated by S.H.I.E.L.D.'s Nick Fury. Our Asset has gone rogue thanks to S.H.I.E.L.D.'s Captain America." A very, very distant flicker of something unknown appeared for a millisecond before dissipating. Pursing her lips, she tried figuring out what could have caused that flickered feeling. "We need the Asset returned safely. This is where you come in. You're our only option."

"Are the Twins not up to your standards?" Her voice was slightly hoarse. How long had she been in that cryotube?!

"The Twins are none of your concern," was the sharp reply. "Your mission is to retrieve the Winter Soldier. Do you understand what I'm saying?"

She didn't verbally respond, she gave a single nod.

WWII, American Base in London; 1943

How was Lincoln supposed to feel? Her husband had been sent, with countless other soldiers, on to fight the front lines. At first, she had been terrified; then she felt numb; then she felt an overwhelming rush of emotions before starting at the beginning. Bucky was in the front lines, and she had no idea what was going on. She had no idea what was happening to him. Lincoln wanted nothing more than to know if her husband was okay. If he was alive.

Taking a deep breath, Lincoln tried calming herself down. She had things she had to do, soldiers to treat. If she allowed herself to get overwhelmed with emotions, she'd certainly end up doing something that would cost someone's life. Burying her face in her hands, Lincoln tried steadying herself. Most of the injured soldiers who'd come in had been treated, so all she had to do was check in on them from time to time. Occasionally she'd change their bandages or give them medicine, but other than that, things seemed to be running normally.

"You okay?"

The voice made Lincoln jump. She'd gone outside of the recovery area in hopes of getting some fresh air. The small area, filled with so many injured men, was making her feel claustrophobic. The faint smell of blood, the smell of rotting flesh that came from some soldiers with injuries not healing right — it all felt as if it were closing in on her. When she turned, she saw Howard Stark standing there. The playboy, the billionaire, the inventor. Lincoln had a fairly nice relationship with Howard, though she couldn't say she was very fond of him. She took quick notice to his arrogance, due to him being a successful inventor. She had heard many stories from him regarding the women he'd seen and been with, and she found it distasteful. Howard Stark was a good man, but his entitlement and arrogance made Lincoln view him a little differently than what she would've liked.

"Yeah, I'm fine," she stammered, trying for a smile.

"You don't look fine, sweetheart." The statement had an almost sarcastic lilt to it, which made Lincoln unconsciously smile. She couldn't help it. On very few occasions had Howard's sarcasm made her smile.

"I just. . . .Bucky's in the front lines," she sighed. "I can't help but worry."

Nodding, Howard gave her a comforting pat on the back, moving to stand beside her. "Our boy Bucky'll be just fine," he exclaimed, sounding almost nonchalant. "If there's one thing I know, it's that he can handle anything."

Chewing her bottom lip anxiously, Lincoln nodded wordlessly. She wanted to believe what Howard was saying. He sounded so confident, and she wanted to have that kind of feeling whenever her husband went to go fight. But every time he left she would be scared out of her wits. Would he come back? Would he be severely injured? Would he die in the battlefield or from a wound? What if he got captured by Nazis? What would they do to him? Would they execute him? Torture him? Those thoughts rattled in her head and drove her crazy.

"Besides," Howard went on, "our golden boy's here. He'll help you out whenever you need it."

That was true. Steve had later been accepted into the military under a special experimental program. He'd gone from the small, scrawny boy from Brooklyn to a man well over six feet tall and very well built. All the women on-base were talking about him. Except, he didn't exactly get the soldier status he wanted. Lincoln knew he wanted to be out there stopping Nazis, but whoever had been in charge of the program had Steve doing promotional shows for the war instead. He would do musical numbers — though he himself didn't have to do any singing — with the occasional skit here and there where he'd "punch" an actor dressed like Adolf Hitler. Lincoln had seen the posters, she heard people talking about the show. Steve had his own theme song. He wasn't Steve Rogers anymore, he was America's golden boy or the Star-Spangled Man with a Plan.

The last performance Lincoln knew Steve had was at her base. It didn't go over well with the soldiers, and he had confided with her and a woman named Peggy Carter, whom Lincoln had talked to every now and again. Steve was less than pleased with his position. He'd been promised a roll in the war, but he was forced to go on stage and sell himself as a show-boy.

Lincoln had comforted him, Peggy had comforted him. He'd find himself a place in the war when the time arose.

"That's right," Lincoln sighed.

"Yeah, that's right," Howard exclaimed. "I don't know anything about this monogamous life of yours, since I've never been married. But I know you and Golden Boy are pretty close, am I right?" When Lincoln nodded, Howard nodded, as well. "He'll help you if you need anything," he went on. "I may not be the best person to come to when it comes to marital problems."

"I'll keep that in mind," Lincoln chuckled.

There may be certain things about Howard Stark she didn't like, but at least he was there to give advice when it was needed.

(A/N):

First off, I am so sorry for this chapter's delay. I've been in the middle of finals and everything so I've been behind on finishing this up. Hopefully there's something about this chapter you like. If there's anything that needs changing, don't hesitate to let me know.

Do I own anything in the MCU? No. No I don't.

By the way, a BLACK PANTHER mini trailer has been released fairly recently. I just thought it was something worth mentioning for anyone who's interested in knowing what's going on with that.

If you've got ideas for subplots or OCs, don't hesitate to PM me or to leave a review. Those are important.

Leave a thought on anything I can improve on.

Thanks.

Judith W