Chapter Text
In a museum in DC there was an entire exhibit dedicated to Captain America and the Howling Commandos, heroes that served in World War II. All of them long since dead, or supposedly so.
One of the many panels that detailed the lives of these men was dedicated to Sergeant James Buchanan Barnes, childhood best friend to Captain America, Steve Rogers. It detailed when he was born, who his family was, where he went to school, when he served, his role in the Howling Commandos, and when he died.
Pictures flickered by showing him as a young man in the army and as a normal man living in Brooklyn before the war. Amongst the changing pictures one stood out, so unlike the others. A picture of Bucky standing in a church kissing a beautiful girl with a bouquet in her hands. A wedding. A final slice of happiness before the war uprooted it all.
Back when Bucky was piecing together his memories he stood at this panel for a long time. Memories fragmenting back into place. And each time that wedding picture popped up a new wave of pain and regret swept through. A perfect life had been so close to being his and then the world got in the way.
Since regaining his memories he had years to come to terms with the fact that all of it was gone. But it was still hard to accept. He had lived through so much, suffered through ordeals no one should ever have to endure, and helped win a fight that should have been impossible. Yet the world felt so empty even after half the population was restored because you weren’t in it.
He stared at the picture in his wallet, a copy of the one they had at the museum, and smiled. He could still remember the day he met you. His beautiful, wonderful future wife.
---
Brooklyn, NY 1923
You knew how to mop a floor before you knew how to read. It was just how life turned out. Not every girl got to grow up being treated like a princess, wearing gingham dresses trimmed with lace and silk bows. Some were more like Cinderella, doing chores and wearing patchwork dresses made from shirts your father was no longer around to wear.
Unlike Cinderella you had no wicked stepmother or stepsisters. You had one mother who loved you as much as she could. She did her best with what she had, tried to make the clothes you wore as fashionable as she could so you weren’t treated poorly by other children. It was hard.
A picture in a frame of a man you never got to meet, dressed in a naval uniform next to a folded up flag. Went to war shortly after you were conceived and a body that was lost to sea, never to return home. He left you and your mom alone in a world that won the Great War but had lost something greater in the process.
Your mother had scrambled to find work after your father died. The pension she got only covered so much, just enough to pay for rent and utilities, the rest she earned working as a cleaner. Most of the time she had to leave you with your aunt and uncle while she worked. You spent most days of the week with them as a baby. It had been brought up to your mother to remarry but she had steadfastly refused. Your father was the only man she ever loved and he would remain so, and you would remain in that home she had made with him. A rinky dink apartment in Brooklyn where the stairwell smelled like the cooking of twelve other families’ dinners.
When you were old enough your mother started bringing you to work with her, a decision spurned on when you called your aunt mama instead of your actual mother. You started helping your mom when she cleaned, little stuff you could handle until you got even bigger and could really help. She had chided you at first when you tried to help but you were young and full of energy and if you couldn’t run around then you had to do something. In the evenings she’d hold you close and read to you, tell you stories about your dad, and promise you something sweet that weekend if you behaved.
When you were old enough to start school that wasn’t easy either. Your mother had saved to buy you a brand new dress for your first day but a new dress cannot be worn every day and you returned to your patchwork clothes and hand-me-downs that were at least a decade out of fashion. And kids could be mean.
You remembered it all too well. The little boys that had come over and pushed you down on the playground. “Grubs belong in the ground!” they shouted and started tearing up clumps of dirt to throw at you.
Then, a little girl in a crisp cotton dress of red and white polka dots came swinging at the boys with a stick. “Leave her alone! I’ll tell teacher!” She kept whacking them and whacking them until they eventually fled.
She let out a little huff and turned to you, baby blue eyes full of childish rage and dark hair tied up in a silky red ribbon. “Are you okay?”
“Yeah.” You wiped your nose. “Thanks.”
“Here.” she pulled a little handkerchief out of her pocket. It was embroidered with ladybugs and had the letters RB stitched on it.
You wiped your eyes and blew your nose. She plopped herself on the ground, not caring that she was getting her pretty dress dirty. “I’m Rebecca. Do you wanna be my friend?”
“Yeah.” You handed the handkerchief back to her. “Can we be best friends?”
“Yes!” She beamed a wide toothy smile. “We’re gonna be best friends forever!”
From that moment on you had a friend in one Rebecca Barnes. A girl from money and a big family that wasn’t ashamed to dirty he pretty dresses or share her lunch with you when she saw how little you had. She often said she liked your patchwork skirts, said that they reminded her of her grandma’s quilt.
That first day after school though as you walked home you were skipping down the street, causing your neighbor and only other friend you had, Steve, to huff to keep up with you. “Wait up!” he panted as he tried to catch up.
“Sorry Stevie!” You bounced back towards him. “I’m just so excited! I’ve never had a girl friend before! She’s really nice and she gave me her ribbon to wear in my hair and she had an extra cookie in her lunchbox that she gave me and--”
“Yeah. Yes, I know,” he sighed, trying to catch his breath, “You’ve said all that already.”
“Maybe she can be your friend too. Then we can all be friends and have sleepovers and stuff!” You hugged him to your side, his bony shoulder poking against you.
“I don’t think boys are supposed to go to girl sleepovers,” he said.
“That’s stupid.” You laced your hand with his and kept pulling him down the street towards your house. You left him in front of his door then raced up the steps to your own house and burst in, excited to tell your mother all about your new friend but then remembered that she was still at work so you busied yourself with getting a snack and climbing onto the back of the couch so you could look out the window. You watched the street until you noticed the familiar silhouette of your mother coming up the sidewalk. You stashed your snack away and ran down the steps of the apartment building to get to her.
“There’s my girl!” She beamed as you threw yourself into her arms. “How was school? Where’d this new ribbon come from?” She adjusted the clumsy bow in your hair.
“My friend Rebecca gave it to me!” You proceeded to talk her ear off about your new friend all the way back up the stairs and into the apartment.
There was a weariness about your mother, always had been, but she never let it cross her face when she thought you were looking. In moments though, when she thought herself alone, you saw the years wearing on her, the long hours of scrubbing floors on her hands and knees and cleaning windows. She worked so hard, all of it for you. So you could go to school and make friends and be happy without having to worry about where meals were coming from or keeping warm during the winter.
She listened while you went on and on, making dinner and helping you with your homework even after such a long day. “I’m so proud that you made a friend, sweetie.” She gave your head a kiss as she tucked you into bed. “But now it is time for bed. You can tell me more tomorrow.”
“Ok mama,” you yawned, snuggling under the covers. “Good night.”
“Good night, my sweet.” She turned out the light and left the room. You were still too awake to fall asleep and stayed up looking out the window, imagining what tomorrow had in store for you.
---
The week sped by and with each day you spent with Rebecca the closer you became. The two of you had quickly become attached at the hip and were rarely apart. You only wanted to sit next to each other, eat lunch together, and play together at recess.
It was a bright sunny day on the playground at school as all the kids ran around getting their energy out before returning to class. You and Rebecca had decided to play hide and seek. Rebecca was hiding while you tried to find her.
You were checking under the slides when you noticed some older boys under there crowded around Steve. He was on the ground, his lip bleeding as the boys tried to rip off his shoes. You knew that was where Steve hid his lunch money and it seems the boys had caught on too.
Steve was still fighting despite being overpowered and outnumbered. His little legs kicking out and nailing one of the boys in the chest when he tried grabbing his foot.
Your blood was hot seeing these bullies beating up your friend and you moved without thinking. You rushed one of the boys and tackled them from behind, pulling hard on his hair to try and get him to leave Steve alone.
“Get her off!” the boy you had grabbed screamed. The boys scrambled to pull you off and tossed you on the ground, your knees skinning against the pavement. Steve had taken the distraction to get back up and swayed on his feet as he tried to get into a fighting stance. He tried throwing a punch at one of the boys but he was slow and the boys easily pushed him back down and started wailing on him again, successfully ripping off his shoe and dumping out the money inside.
“That’s not yours! Give it back!” you yelled.
“And what are you gonna do about it--” the boy was cut off as another new boy ran in and decked him hard in the face. The boy fell back on his butt, his nose bleeding profusely. The new boy held up his clenched fists like he was a junior boxer.
“Get out of here if you don’t want a black eye to match!” the new boy snapped. The two uninjured boys looked at their bleeding, crying friend and ran off.
“You guys okay? It looked like you needed help,” the new boy asked.
“I had ‘em. But thanks.” Steve collected his money from the ground and stuffed it in his pocket.
You sniffed, your scraped knees blossoming with pain as the wind blew across the shallow cuts. “Here,” the new boy held a hand out for you, “Do you need the nurse?”
You looked up and came face to face with what you mistook for a prince. Maybe it was the brand new navy clothes that were playfully rumpled, the windswept tangle of his dark hair, or the soft blue of his eyes. You were struck dumb, staring up at him as the sun came out to silhouette him.
You took his hand and he helped pull you to your feet. He tried to let go of your hand but you kept holding on. He must have thought you were still upset and wanted someone’s hand to hold so didn’t try to shrug you off.
“Thanks for trying to help,” Steve said to you, “You should go to the nurse though.”
“Let’s go tell the teacher.” This new boy tugged you over to the teacher and told them what happened. The teacher excused the three of you to go back inside and find the nurse while she tried to find the bullies.
“My name is Bucky, by the way,” the dark haired boy introduced himself.
“I’m Steve.” Steve said with a smile and turned to you expecting you to introduce yourself as well but you were still staring at Bucky and never got the words out. Steve introduced you since you were too awe struck to articulate proper words.
You made your way to the nurse and were forced to let go of the Bucky’s hand as you were plopped onto a chair. The nurse took care of Steve first since he was in worse shape than you. Bucky noticed you sniffling quietly and grabbed the bandaids. He started plastering them to your scraped up knees.
“Does that feel better?” he asked.
You nodded dumbly. For a moment you wondered if this was how princesses felt when knights came to rescue them from their towers. You didn’t even know this boy and he had swept in to help you and Steve without a thought to the danger. Then he so carefully helped you off the ground and tended to your injuries.
Was this what it was like to fall in love?
Despite Bucky patching you up the nurse had insisted on taking the bandages back off and cleaning your knees before bandaging them again.
When all was well you made your way back to the playground and passed the teacher in the hall heading to the nurse with the bullies. One of which was still crying and holding his broken, bleeding nose. You held your chin up proudly as you passed them and returned to enjoy the scant few minutes left of recess.
Bucky grabbed Steve and they ran off to play together and you stuck in one place watching them from afar. You wanted to run and join them but you had not been invited and your mother had taught you not to intrude if an invitation wasn’t given. And the boys seemed to be having so much just by themselves.
“There you are!” Rebecca came racing up to you from across the playground. “You left me hiding for so long. What are you doing?”
“Oh no! I’m so sorry!” You all at once remembered your unfinished game of hide and seek. “I was looking for you, I promise, but then I saw Steve getting bullied and tried to help him.”
“Who was being mean to Steve?” Rebecca puffed up, ready to fight the bullies along with you though the danger had long since passed.
“Billy and his mean friends,” you said. Then your face broke into a smile. “But then this older boy came over and helped. He punched Billy right in the nose and scared off the others! It was magical, Rebecca! Like a knight in a fairy tale.”
“Really?” Rebecca’s eyes widened.
“Really! He was so sweet to me too! He helped me off the ground and held my hand all the way to the nurse’s office. Then he even patched up my skinned knees! I felt just like a princess!” you continued to gush.
“Who was it? Where is he?” Rebecca asked.
“He’s over there playing with Steve.” You pointed out the pair of boys.
Rebecca’s jaw dropped and pointed an accusing finger at the duo. “Bucky?”
“Yeah,” you sighed, dreamily, “Do you know him?”
“That’s my stupid older brother!” She made a disgusted face. “Did you really call that butthead a prince?”
It felt as if your heart had dropped down into your shoes. You knew that Rebecca had a brother but she never spoke of him. How were you to know it was Bucky? And she seemed to hate him so. Even more she hated the idea of you liking him even more!
“I mean, no, I didn’t. He seemed nice at the moment I guess…” you mumbled. You didn’t want to give Rebecca any reason to stop being friends with you. It hurt your heart though that she thought so little of her brother. You knew as a good friend you should have been disgusted too but you couldn’t forget the way he had been so gentle and kind to you while you were in distress.
How could you possibly make her understand that without making her mad?
“Well, he’s not nice. He’s stupid and gross.” Rebecca crossed her arms, her face turning pink with indignation. “And he always steal extra cookies from the cookie jar at home so there’s not enough for the rest of us.”
Rebecca grabbed your arm and pulled you across the playground toward the swings and far away from Bucky and Steve.
Even with all her talk Rebecca could not remove the notion of Bucky as a shining prince in your mind and your thoughts were plagued with him for the rest of the day. That evening when you were supposed to be fast asleep in bed you instead sat at your window staring out at the night and made a wish. One that came from the most fanciful depths of your childish heart. “I wish that Rebecca won’t be mad at me for liking Bucky. And I wish that Bucky and me will live happily ever after, just like in my storybooks.”