Flowers
His arms wrapped around Allie's waist, Bucky didn't find that he minded her being sick when it came to being beside her. Moonlight was shining through their window as Allie's eyes were hazily closed.
It was a cold winter night outside, and the two had huddled themselves together under their thick blankets. Allie was in the midst of the flu, and while she had initially insisted she find another place to sleep, Bucky insisted that he wasn't afraid of a little flu.
Allie was still awake, embracing the warmth of his arms. She supposed that laying there with him wasn't the worst way to recover.
"You know," she mumbled with a shiver. "If we never had to face a cold winter like this again, I'd be just fine with that."
"Well, after tomorrow's mission, we'll be one step closer to being back in Brooklyn," his voice had a grin in it. "We get Zola, get information out of him, take down Schmidt, win the war and wouldn't you know, we'll be going home. Brooklyn, we're on our way."
Allie's laugh was small and weak in her sick state, but she still managed to turn over and open her eyes. Looking at him, she could have become lost in the pools of blue that looked back at her.
"I would like to be in a home of our own," she smiled. "No more having to be quiet in our room."
"Nope," he smirked. "We'll get to spend all our nights this close because we want to, we can be as loud as we want without worrying about someone banging on the door."
"That's just crass," Allie frowned at him.
"I'm teasing," he leaned closer. "Scout's honor."
"You were never a Boy Scout."
"And you were never a Girl Scout. Your point?"
"Don't be crass," she frowned at him.
Looking at her, he reached his hand out from under the blanket. Pushing hair from her face, he gently placed the back of his hand to her forehead to check for any heat. She was warm, but not nearly as hot as she had been. Sighing as he looked over her face, he wrapped his arm around her once more.
"Yes ma'am," he smiled. "You know, when we're in Brooklyn, we'll have to find a nice place."
"I'd settle for a house that was suitable for our family," Allie shook her head just a smidge.
"That's true," Bucky agreed. "We're going to need a big house."
"How big were you thinking?" she blinked.
"I'd like for you to have a library you could call your own. Somewhere you could keep books upon books, your Shakespeare scripts, a nice space for you," he began. "I want you to have a nice kitchen. Something that's got everything you need, and if it doesn't already, I'll make it happen."
"Maybe I could even teach you how to cook," she smiled.
"You'd want to teach me how to cook?" he scoffed with a bright grin. "And you wouldn't be scared of me burning it down?"
"I know I tease, but I think if I taught you, you'd be able to at least make a fair number of meals. Besides, what if I'm sick and our kids need food?"
"Fair enough."
"Also, if we're wanting rooms for our hobbies, I'd like to find a place with a nice space to make into an art studio," she smiled, watching his brows furrow in confusion. "Well, I enjoy seeing your art, and you deserve to have the space to make more of it. To try new things."
His eyes softened as he looked at her. He knew that they still had a bit of time before they were home, but there they were, making their list of requirements for the perfect house. Thinking for a moment, a small smirk placed itself upon his lips.
"You know, we're going to need a nursery," a mischievous glint had taken place in his eyes.
"Well, yes," she laughed softly. "That's kind of needed for children."
"A few bedrooms for the kids," Bucky continued.
"A few? How many children do you think we're going to have?"
"As many as we can make," he grinned.
"What?" her laugh bubbled loudly, Bucky hushing her as he glanced at the door. "And why exactly do you think we'll have that many?"
"Well, if they're half as fun to raise as they are to make..." he shrugged, and Allie swatted his shoulder in the blink of an eye.
"I thought I said no more being crass," she frowned.
"Admit it, they're fun to make," he smirked.
"Well yes, but you don't see me walking around saying that," Allie pursed her lips. "But I'd like a big family. Bigger than what I had at least."
Bucky let out a small breath, swallowing harshly as he looked at her. "Then, let's get this mission over with. The faster we capture Zola, the faster the end of this war comes."
"Tomorrow can't come fast enough," Allie said with a yawn.
"For now, you rest," he leaned forward, kissing her forehead. "You need it."
"I'll be fine," she assured him. "When has being sick stopped me?"
"Allie," he warned.
Sighing and nodding, she settled against her pillow. "Alright."
Leaning forward and kissing her lips, Bucky studied her as she whispered a goodnight to him and closed her eyes. He found a deep breath was needed as he thought about what they were to face the next day.
They would capture Zola. They had to. Bucky had to get Allie back home.
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Allie woke in her new bed feeling refreshed for the first time in decades. A small piece in the back of her mind almost felt uneasy about how comfortable she was. After all, she hadn't felt that in way in so long. Sitting up and taking a deep breath, she looked around the room.
She had set aside clothes on the back of the plain chair that sat in the corner of the room. Burying her chin into her knees, Allie took a moment to think about what had happened the day before.
Steve really was alright and was a part of a team who went after threats. Threats, she thought, like her. Still, even though she had done something as terrifying and threating as she had done, he still trusted her. If she had no one, she had her brother.
The world around her was fuzzy and passed in a blur as she readied herself for the day. She prepared a small bag for her trip with Steve, going to the kitchen for breakfast and praying that she didn't run into Tony. She understood that Steve may have told her that he was Howard's son, but it didn't mean she was his biggest fan after his behavior when they had first met.
It was long after breakfast that Steve had ushered her out to a car, letting her put her belongings in the trunk and take her spot in the passenger's seat. He still wouldn't tell her where exactly they were going.
Much of the car ride was filled with Steve's attempt to warn her about the meetings he would soon have to attend on her behalf. She almost felt as if she were being lectured, waiting and wanting to get a word in edgewise.
It took a while, but he finally had looked over to his sister. Noticing her unamused frown, he gave a small nod. Letting out a breath, his lips turned into a thin line.
"Sorry. It is going to be fine," he reminded her. "We get through the first meetings, and you'll be respected again. Now, did you have any questions? I know it's a lot for you to take in."
"What can you tell me about Wanda?" she looked over at him. "She didn't exactly seem eager to read my mind the other day."
"She's a new recruit," he sighed. "She's Sokovian. She and her brother had been experimented on by Hydra. She gained all of this telepathic, telekinetic abilities. Really, her powers aren't like anything I had seen. Her brother had enhanced speed."
"She misses him," Allie remembered her conversation with Wanda.
"He stepped in front of Barton," Steve glanced over at her and saw her confusion. "A friend of mine. He's retired, but he was an Avenger as well. Barton had gone to grab a kid that was still in the city, Ultron turned his weapons on him, Pietro ran and acted like a shield."
"Did she have to watch?" she looked at him horrified.
"No, thank god," he swallowed harshly. "But she told me once that she felt it."
"I see," Allie's eyes dropped to her lap. "Does she have many friends?"
Steve tilted his head side-to-side as he thought. "Not as many as she needs. She's seen things she never should have had to."
"Haven't we all?"
Silence settled back over them. Glancing at her, Steve cleared his throat. "And you? Would you want to tell me what exactly happened?"
Allie looked up at him, her heart plummeting into her stomach as she realized what exactly he wished to know. Pursing her lips, she looked back towards the glove box.
"I don't know exactly everything," she began. "Or rather, I can't remember everything. I just remember that it was Bucky's birthday, and I was at the bar. I was drunk. The girls couldn't get me to go back to the house, Dugan couldn't get me to the house, I just... Steve, I didn't want to go back and be reminded again that Bucky was gone.
"He would have been twenty-eight that day. He would have turned twenty-eight, and a few days later I'd have been twenty-six. God, I didn't even know if I'm truly twenty-six anymore."
"Why's that?"
"I followed some woman who called herself Laura. I don't know where she came from, and I have no clue where she went. Frankly, I don't think her name really was Laura. Regardless, she led me to The Lab, and while I was there, they ran experiments of all kinds on me.
"I can still feel the searing pain it put me through. I felt like my veins were on fire more times than I care to count. I remember after the first few injections, they decided they had to find a way to 'preserve' me.
"From what I gathered, there was some soldier that was placed in this cryogenic state, at least that was what they said," at those words, Steve glanced over with widened eyes. He was sure he knew who she was talking about. "They made an attempt to put me under, but the temperatures were so frigid that I would go into a near hypothermic state. They chose to develop a formula to protect my body when I was placed under.
"It took a few formulas, and a few more nearly hypothermic episodes, but they figured it out. I assume I was out about a week or two at a time, and each time they wanted to put me back under, I had to be injected with the formula again. That's what quite a few of the scars on my arms are from.
"The last time I was brought out, they finally brought these powers to life. I learned to control fire and ice, and I know they had mentioned more to me at least once, but Steve, these powers scare me. You saw how easily they can become out of control... how easily I can become out of control."
"Have you ever held back?" he glanced at her hands, watching as she nervously created glittering ice around the tips of her fingers.
"Sometimes," she nodded. "When it came to you all, I did."
"You said you never intended to hurt anyone, right?" he glanced between her and the road.
"Stop people, yes. I tried to stop criminals. I've never intended for anyone to die or suffer," she pursed her lips.
"Intention is what matters," he assured her. "We can work with a good intention. We'll just have to do our research, train and work with these powers of yours, and work to convince people that you are the same Allison that I've talked about."
Allie looked up at her brother, taking in a small breath and giving him a smile. "Thank you."
"You're welcome," he gave a small grin, looking at the skyline of the city. "Now, how about we get you some good and greasy food."
He took her to a diner, something he was relieved to see brought a smile to her face. She had her burger and fries, happily drinking a milkshake. Steve felt a small sense of relief when he had seen her eyes light up, just as they had when they were teenagers.
For just a moment in the diner, she didn't look as tired or worried as she had. Her brow wasn't furrowed, her eyes weren't tired. For a moment, he was struck by the thought of the last time she had had a good meal with another person.
Allie was grateful for something that was cooked on a stove that worked. The one she had had in her flat was always a bit on the fritz.
Their hotel had been the final stop following their meal. It was a nicer hotel, nothing like they had stayed in during their time overseas. It wasn't extremely fancy, she did notice that, but it had a different breath of life. Even their room seemed to be a cut above what she had been accustomed to.
Allie walked through the hotel room, remembering the small rooms they often had during their travels. It felt as if they had more room to breathe than they ever had before. Looking around, she noticed the appliances the room had, a small refrigerator sitting there. Walking over, she opened its door to notice bottles large and small of alcohol.
"There's a refrigerator filled with drinks?" Allie glanced back at him. "Hotels have that now?"
"Some of them," he shrugged his shoulders.
"Well, then I don't know about you," she began as she glanced back inside. "But I could use a drink."
"It does cost money," he frowned.
"And your point? We can't exactly be desperate for money if we're in a place like this," she grinned.
He thought for a moment, tilting his head to each side as if he were weighing the options in front of him. Sighing, he nodded and took a drink for himself.
Watching her brother, Allie thought for a moment. Surely, she wouldn't have to worry about what he would think. Taking a few of the bottles for herself, she took them to the table. Admittedly, Steve didn't bat an eye as she drank one bottle of liquor. He had drunk his own bottle fairly quickly.
It was once she had her own collection of newly emptied glass bottles that he paid attention. Many of them were small bottles, but it alarmed him none-the-less.
"Hey," Steve leaned over a bit to look her in the eye. "Should you be drinking that much?"
Her stomach plummeted at his words, her eyes dropping to the empty glass in front of her. Pursing her lips, she closed her eyes and steadied her breath.
"Steve, I'm fine," she assured him. "I can handle my liquor."
"I just have never seen you drink that many glasses in one sitting," he commented. "I just don't think it's wise."
"I can handle it," she repeated, her eyes narrowed at him.
For a moment, Steve thought that she may have been right. She was awake and talking, her speech wasn't entirely slurred, and her steps weren't faltering. And just as he was about to take back his words, he watched as she slumped down on her seat, asleep.
Sighing, he helped his sister over to her bed, covering her up before turning his attention to the scattered bottles at the table. Mumbling under his breath about how he shouldn't have let her convince him to take the bottles from the fridge, he tidied the room and readied himself for bed.
Looking back at his sister, he could only ask himself why she had as much to drink as she did.
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Waking in the hotel room, Allie pushed aside the strong thumping in her head. Noticing Steve as he finished readying himself for the day, she refused to give him the satisfaction of having been right the night before.
She could still feel waves of nausea washing over her as she remembered just how much alcohol had gone into her body. She would never admit it to him, but she knew that he was right. She never drank that much, not until Bucky had died. A time or two when they had drank together after that fateful mission, Allie had selfishly been grateful that unlike her brother, she could still become drunk.
"Good morning," Steve gave her a small smile, noticing her squinting at the sunlight. He was pulling a jacket on as he looked over.
She grimaced as she sat up, willing herself not to be sick. Steve slowed for just a moment as he watched her. He frowned, shaking his expression when she looked back to him.
"I'll get ready," she took a slow breath.
"I was just going to go down to the lobby to get both of us breakfast," he thought for a moment. "Would you want me to bring you a coffee?"
"Please," she glanced to him. "And a water as well, if you don't mind."
"One coffee and water coming up," he smiled over at his sister. "And I'll see what I can get you to eat."
"Thank you," she smiled.
Allie didn't know how long it took her to get ready. What she did know was that she was impressed she did so without throwing up. When she looked at herself in the mirror, she felt almost a bit more ready than she had before. She supposed having her brother to rely on was the reason.
Redressed and freshened up, she noticed Steve placing what he had brought on the room's table. He glanced over at her and nodded to the food.
"You'd better eat up," he glanced down at his watch. "I'd prefer to get us there before it gets too late."
"It's still the morning," she furrowed her brows at him.
"I just want to give ourselves plenty of time through the day, okay?" he shrugged. "Now eat. You need something."
Shaking her head at him, she did as he had told her. Something felt humorous about him nagging her. After all, hadn't it always been her who nagged him? She sat at the table, drinking the hot coffee and eating her meal. She drank her water, cleaning up after herself once she had finished. It didn't take long for Steve to usher her out the door and to their car.
The drive was quiet. Allie was still fighting her hangover, and the movement of the road wasn't exactly a cure for it. Steve glanced once or twice to her, frowning before turning his attention back to the road. Allie had lost track of time before she felt the car finally parking.
"We're here," he grinned.
Allie took in where they were. The Smithsonian. Frowning just a bit as she looked over at her brother, she wondered if she should feel a bit insulted. She was under the impression that this was a trip they were taking. Was this his way of telling her she was clueless about what had happened the last seventy years? She had thought that she had begun to understand in that time she had stayed in Europe.
"I didn't think I was that behind on everything," she mumbled. Glancing over at him, her shoulders dropped just a touch. "Really? A museum?"
"You'll have to just trust me on this one," he gave a small shrug. "Now, come on."
Allie felt skeptical for a moment, relenting once she saw her brother locking the car and waiting for her to join him. Taking in a breath, she followed him inside.
Around them, people were walking to and from, pushing and sliding past one another as they made their way to the different exhibits that were offered. Through the great halls, Allie had to be brought back to their trip by the clearing of Steve's throat.
"There's plenty of history to go around in here," he started as he led her to the entrance of one particularly familiar exhibit. From the large wall with his image printed on it, Allie could tell that it was a Captain America exhibit. "This is a little closer to home."
Allie could have sworn it was the busiest spot they had walked past after they had walked in. Plenty of people were pointing at images of Steve and at artifacts that remained encased in glass.
"Who knew that the kid from Brooklyn would become this big," Allie muttered under her breath.
There were murals of her brother as they passed, quotes from Steve and government officials who spoke on his return. She let her gaze fall on smaller displays, watching the screens that cycled through photographs and comparisons of Steve prior to and following the serum.
Not long after, a large display captivated her. A beautiful mural that spanned the length of the wall depicted all seven of the men. There was Dugan and Gabe, Jim and Jacques, James, Steve, and just beside her brother was Bucky. She could feel her lips parting just a bit as her eyes dropped to the uniforms in front of the mural. Each man's uniform was on display in front of his portrait.
Her brother cleared his throat, calling her attention to him. As she looked, he tilted his head to the side. Looking around Steve, Allie could see the many different displays and walls that the exhibit had to offer. Blinking her eyes, she took the steps towards them.
Looking through the pictures on the screens as she passed, Allie noticed different moments in time. Some of them she could remember vividly. Others she remembered to varying degrees. Steve was nearby, allowing her to roam on her own. He wouldn't admit it to her, mostly because he was convinced, she would have teased him for it, but he had been in the exhibit a number of times since his return.
Her eyes scanned the room, settling on a large glass display. Etched into the glass was a portrait of Bucky. He wasn't smiling in the portrait, instead looking stoic and into the distance. Her lips parted as she reached up and grabbed her locket tightly.
She read each word etched into his display, committing it to memory. Somehow, each word was still agony. She knew everything that she was reading, it was nothing new to her. And yet, somehow, she felt the need to memorize it anyway.
In front of the display was a screen that played footage from the Howling Commandos. Allie's eyes fell on it, watching each clip that passed by. There was one of Steve and Bucky standing and talking, even laughing together. Then there was a clip of the Commandos sitting in the back of the Jeep as they received orders from Steve.
A clip of Bucky adjusting the front of his tactical jacket played. She watched the crinkle between his brows forming in the video. Her lips curled into the softest of smiles as she remembered the way he would furrow his brows.
And then, before she felt she even had a chance to blink or breathe, a clip played of her and Bucky together. They were dancing in the footage, laughing happily and not allowing their eyes to stray from one another. Instead, they were enjoying the moment, ignoring everyone else that had been around.
She couldn't take her eyes off of the clip. There were his hands on her waist, his eyes on her as he leaned in and kissed her. She could feel the warmth of his lips on hers, even now as she stood there and watched a grainy film. She could feel the rush of wind every time he would pull her in, the warmth of his breath as it fanned against her when he would laugh.
Just as she often did, she thought of each moment she could that contained him. She remembered the day she met him and the way he had teased her even then. She remembered the day that he had taken her to the movies after Steve had been so sick and the first time he took her dancing.
She remembered the time that she hadn't let the boys be the only ones to be foolish, jumping into the canal after them. She remembered the horrendous triple date that night before he left for the war. She remembered that day she saw him again, cut and bloody and alive. She remembered the night that he had invited her to bar, that night she had decided not to be afraid anymore.
Taking in a breath, she remembered that dinner he had taken to that she was disappointed he hadn't told her he loved her. She remembered watching the stars as they went back to the base. She remembered the shooting range as he trained her and the lessons she had given on first aid.
She remembered that first mission when she had thought she was about to die after going to help one of their teammates, only to be saved by Bucky. Their first kiss was vibrant in her mind, the way he held her waist as his lips were warm and inviting against hers. She remembered the day that they finally had confessed to one another. At the thought of the first time they had been intimate, she felt a rush in her cheeks. The day they married and each moment in between, it was full of color and life.
Before she could stop it, the vibrancy was instantly dimmed as she remembered that damned day when she stayed behind. She knew that it was silly, and it wasn't something that she could change, but she still blamed herself for the death date that was etched into Bucky's display.
Her heart began to ache as she stood there. Behind her, Steve swallowed harshly. He knew that there was going to be points that she would be upset, but he also knew that he couldn't let her remain in the dark about what had really happened to Bucky. He knew, however, that standing in the middle of the Captain America exhibit wasn't the idle or appropriate place for that conversation.
Instead, he allowed her to walk and embrace each moment of their history that the world knew. He watched as she finally parted from Bucky's display, glancing over it once, twice, three times over her shoulder before moving on to a large display with the entire team's uniforms. All of them, that was, apart from hers.
Puzzled, she glanced back at him. "I suppose the seven of you really were the real team," she gave a small, half-hearted smile.
"You might want to keep walking," he suggested after he looked behind her and saw the display that he was most proud of. "There's more."
Glancing from Steve to the rest of the exhibit, she could see different displays and screens playing footage of the Commandos. She could see a small group of children gathered around another glass display. Curiosity sparked in her, her feet guiding her directly over to it.
She held her breath as she noticed just who was etched into the glass. It was her, dressed in her nursing uniform. Her eyes were focused, and she almost looked stoic in the picture. Her eyes took in each inch of the display, just as they had when she looked at the display of Bucky. She barely noticed those looking between her and the display as she read what was written.
Allison Mae Rogers was born on March 14, 1919 to Sarah and Joseph Rogers. The younger sister of Steve Rogers, Allison was often found attached to her brother's side or aiding her mother at home.
At the age of twenty, Allison became a registered nurse, following in the footsteps of her mother. Working diligently at Saint Francis's Hospital in Brooklyn, the same hospital her mother worked in, she went on to be accepted as a nurse overseas during the Second World War.
In 1943, Allison was present at the arrival of Captain Rogers and the 163 survivors of Hydra's capture. Following their return, Captain Rogers recruited his sister to be The Howling Commandos medic, taking her along Europe to provide relief during their missions against Hydra. Despite only being recruited for medical purposes, Allison quickly went on to aid the men on their missions across Europe.
Allison Rogers went on to become the girlfriend of her childhood friend, Sergeant James Barnes, during their time in Europe. Mourning him when he lost his life, Allison herself went missing in early 1945 shortly before Germany's surrender.
While the end of her story is unknown, Allison remains a popular figure for young women and girls to this day.
Allie's lips parted in surprise. It was brief and was nowhere close to being a complete biography, but she could now see what Sam had meant when they had talked. She read the text a second time, a third time, as many times as it took to realize that it really did say what she thought it did.
Once she could finally part her eyes from the text, she turned to look at her portrait. How could that young woman be her? How could she have let herself stray away from who she once was? Was she the same person? Or was that woman etched in the glass an entirely different person.
She pitied the girl she saw, the one who would go on to know pain that still washed over her every day. She pitied the girl who would one day have powers she wished she didn't have. The girl etched in that glass had dreams and hopes that she once thought were coming closer and closer each day. Now, she didn't know what she could expect to happen.
Steve touched her elbow gently, pulling her away from the display and pointing out other small displays. One particular wall caught her eye. Sketches and papers were on display, all listed with their credits.
A small smile tugged at Allie's lips as she recognized the drawings in front of her. At once, she was transported back in time to the night of the Commandos' first victory. That night that she had found herself sitting with Bucky on the couch as he sketched.
There was the sketch of flowers he was drawing when she had sat down. The ones she found to be lovely. There were the landscape drawings he had done, the ones he had allowed her to look through when she had teased him. In the middle of them, whether those who put the wall together purposefully placed it there or not, was the drawing he had done of her.
Her heart sped up, memories of that night and the way she hadn't expected to see herself in his book washing over her. Allie couldn't have been sure why she remembered the smallest of details about that day, but she remembered his lead covered fingers and the way he was carefully to rub it off. She remembered the way she could have sworn the tips of his ears turned pink when she saw herself amongst his book.
She remembered his words and the way she was content being alone with him. She had been content to sit in silence and watch as he created his artwork. She was happy to take in every detail about him and his small habits.
"He was so talented," Allie frowned as she noticed Steve looking at her. "He could have done something with his art when we came home. You could have too."
"I know," Steve agreed, his own gaze turning to the different papers. "I'm afraid it really isn't an option for me anymore."
"Howard had offered Bucky employment when we were home in Brooklyn," Allie remembered her eyes unfocused at the memory. "I think he could have done well in advertisement."
"With how much Howard went on to do with his company? I think Bucky would have been his go-to for advertisement," he agreed once more, a small smile on his lips. "He really loved the two of you."
Allie looked down for a moment. A thought pricked at her mind, though she wasn't entirely certain she wanted to know the answer.
"What happened to Howard?" she glanced over at Steve.
"He died," he confirmed with a sigh. "Tony is his son, but you already know that. He had gotten married, continued to grow his business, went on to help form S.H.I.E.L.D., which I know you don't know a whole lot about yet."
She nodded, happy enough to leave the topic at that. It did cause her tumble over her words as she asked about everyone else. Peggy, Dugan, Gabe, Jim, anyone and everyone she could think of. She wanted every story explained to her. Her brother chose to keep it brief.
Together, the two walked through the rest of the exhibit. Stopping in front of a display of her dresses, Allie couldn't help but laugh a bit. There was her nursing uniform and her tactical uniform together, large, colorized images of her in each behind them. In front of them, her beautiful blue dress she had purchased was on display, a screen in front of it playing more footage of the Commandos. In these videos, they were relaxed and enjoying themselves. She and Bucky were smiling in them.
"I forgot how many times they came to film us," she mused as she watched the videos. She smiled at a clip of Bucky dipping her in a dance, bringing her back up for a kiss. "Now, it's like watching someone else's life."
"It never feels normal," Steve admitted.
Allie nodded, following him as he moved on to other displays. Here and there they saw bits and pieces of weaponry, little pieces from their memories. Ahead of them, just at the end of the displays, was a small gift shop.
The Rogers siblings walked side-by-side into the exhibit's gift shop. Allie had paused for a moment as she took in her surroundings. Everywhere that she looked, there was something with her brother's face, his shield, there were names upon names written on merchandise. She could have sworn she even saw something with her own name on it.
Her eyes scanned the different displays, her hands reaching out just to touch the fabric of shirts or to turn over a small trinket. She looked at the magnets and looked at the novelty pens and notebooks. She could see a number of people walking out with different souvenirs.
Steve did just the same, scoffing just a bit at what he saw. It was a reminder that despite what his wishes may have been, he could never quite escape being on display. Whether it was the USO tour, the media coverage of his return, the whole damn exhibit, he would never be able to remain anonymous. Taking in a deep breath, he glanced over at his sister.
"Here," Steve grinned as he tossed her something small.
Catching it in her hands, Allie looked at it. In her hands was a keychain. It wasn't terribly big, but it was metallic with an image of herself and the Commandos together. She gave a small laugh as she recognized it as a picture that had been taken in the days leading up to their departure for the first mission.
The smile that crept onto her face felt warm and nostalgic, happy to look at the faces she missed dearly. Turning it over in her hand, she noticed that along the keychain were first initials and their last names:
S. Rogers
T. Dugan
G. Jones
J. Morita
J. Falsworth
J. Dernier
J. Barnes
A. Rogers
Smiling down at it, she looked back to her brother. He was looking through a few more fixtures of souvenirs. She took a breath in and out, turning the keychain back over to look at the picture.
"You know, you might be teasing, but I actually like this," she grinned.
"Who said anything about teasing?" he looked over and grinned. "You've been gone for seventy years. A little keepsake just feels right."
"Now I know you're teasing," she mumbled, glancing to look at the other merchandise he was looking at.
"I'll get it for you," he gave a small laugh. "I thought you might like something."
"I'm taking the pamphlets home," she informed him, looking at the papers she had tucked in her hand. "It's just a bit hard to realize that what we did was something that became this big."
"I know," he agreed. "When I was first brought back out of the ice, I had a real tough time getting used to the idea that people knew me."
"Did you not know you were on a USO tour around the country? You've been famous since '43," she scoffed at her brother. "Which meant that Bucky and I were roped into it."
"Roped into? The last I remember, you were happy as could be to join the team," he shot back with a scoff all his own.
"Well, I wouldn't have objected to not being quite so famous," she pursed her lips. "I know the same could be said for you."
"Yeah," he agreed, dropping his head and taking a breath. "I've been in here a handful of times, and each time I'm still shocked to see myself."
"Well, something can be said for it," Allie gave a small shrug and turned to him.
"Which is?"
"The world sees you like I've always seen you," she gave him a small smile. "It's silly, and I know that, but you're my big brother. You were my hero at times."
"At times?" Steve laughed.
"Well, you have to remember Mom," she reminded him. "How lucky was I to have you and her?"
Steve looked at her for a moment, relieved to see her face relaxed compared to how she had looked when she had arrived at the Compound. He had to admit, it was nice to be in the exhibit with someone who had lived through it as well.
"Come on," he nodded towards the register. "We'll start going back to the hotel."
Allie took one final look around the gift shop. Looking over to the exhibit, she gave a small smile. A bit of pride managed to sneak its way into her heart. What they had done really did go on to mean something.
Following her brother and replaying her walk around the exhibit, she happily took the small gift bag. Walking side-by-side, Allie noticed the different children still running around and pretending to be The Howling Commandos. Her smile was soft as she watched them, but it dropped completely only a moment later.
She had been struck with the sickening sadness and longing. She was heartbroken as she remembered everything she had planned with Bucky. For the life that they had wanted. Without him, there was no wedding. Without him, there was no starting a family. It devasted her.
Turning her attention back to Steve, she tried to find anything to focus on that would distract her from the children's laughter she heard. She noticed a small piece of trash blowing about through the gusts of wind as she felt the sunlight hitting her face. She saw a bustling crowd of people across the parking lot and a small group of friends walking down the pavement. She saw her brother looking back at her with his brows furrowed.
Shaking her head softly to bring herself back to reality, if she could call it that, she turned her attention to what was in her hands. Looking through her bag, she took in a deep breath. A few things within it may have seemed silly to some. She was certain that many visitors threw the pamphlets and guides out the moment they left the exhibit. She wasn't going to do that.
These held pictures from the last time she remembered being happy. There were her friends. There was her brother. There was her husband. She closed her eyes for just a breath of a moment, thinking of those videos that played.
She could still feel the touch of his hands as they danced together, the way she would always feel her face warming when he looked at her. She could still feel the way her heart would race whenever she looked at Bucky, even when they had been together for a year.
The walk to the car itself was silent, Allie still thinking of the sketches that had been on display. The sketch of the flowers was on the forefront of her mind. That night was vividly etched into her mind. She could now look back and think fondly of that night, even when in the moment it had terrified her.
She thought of the way they had bantered back in forth while they sat, teasing one another about their hobbies. She knew it was a small detail, a tiny one to some people, but she remembered his fingers and the way they were covered in pencil lead. She remembered him fiddling to rub it off of his skin. Blinking and opening her car door, she wished she could have seen him one last time. The guilt settled like a rock in the pit of her stomach.
Steve wasn't sure how far he had driven from the parking lot before he looked over to study her. While in the passenger's seat, she had taken the papers out of the bag. Her eyes were roaming over them as she sat there.
"Hey Allie?" Steve's hands tightened just a touch on the steering wheel. Taking a small breath, he wondered if he was making a wise choice in telling her then. He didn't think he could wait much longer to tell her, not when he saw the look in her eyes.
"Yes?" she glanced over at him for just a moment before her attention turned back to the pamphlets from the exhibit. The tips of her fingers were tracing the picture of herself along with Bucky and himself.
"There is something that you should know," he began. Allie's glance returned to him in time to see him sigh and rub at his temples. "You'll want to take a deep breath first."
"It's fine, I understand that the world thought I've been dead this entire time," she managed to crack a small smile.
"Well, you're not exactly the only one that people thought dead only to turn up alive," Steve continued.
"Clearly," she snorted a bit. "I've seen the way people fawn over you. It's a bit annoying really."
"I don't mean me," he sighed softly.
For a single moment, Allie could have sworn that the world around her slowing. Who else could be alive that was thought to be dead? Despite the world slowing its pace around her, her mind raced with thoughts upon thoughts. She could take herself and Steve out of the equation, but who else in the Commandos could it have been? And then she felt a pang of hope.
"Allie, Bucky is alive."