*** There won't be any more author's notes after this chapter, so forgive this annoyingly big one!
Those who know me know my penchant for the Marvel universe… and the Trek universe, and the Star Wars universe, and the DC universe, and…. Well, whatever, I'm a giant nerd… but Marvel is like my first love of the nerd world and after I saw the Winter Soldier in early 2014, I wrote this puppy in between wild fits of writing my Walking Dead fic… then I got the writer shy's and decided not to post it… but I was recently re-inspired after gorging myself on the Avengers-fic-feast that is the mind of fic-writer Team Damon (seriously read her stuff, stop reading this, read her stuff, then come back….. I'll wait….. AWESOME RIGHT?), so I thought, you know Mooka, people like your Walking Dead stuff, it's time to set this one free.
So here it is, my little Marvel baby, and after some editing and small additions, it's complete and ready to read. Please let me know your thoughts on it – each 'chapter' is going to be longish and encompass a huge chunk of time, so be ready to read. Keep in mind that I've read every Marvel comic ever, so this won't exactly follow any one Captain America universe, I loved the movies, so visualize those characters, but I've mish-mashed certain other elements where I saw fit.
I've also incorporated elements from the Avengers, even some Agents of Shield tie-ins, and some nods to the Marvel comic universe around Captain America – This story starts Pre-Captain America TFA and ends after TWS
I don't know how important disclaimers are, I think it's pretty obvious I'm not Stan Lee – but just to be safe, I'm fully aware that I don't a single itty bitty detail of the Marvel universe, and the only thing that follows that belongs to me is my OC ***
Chapter One - Before
1926, Brooklyn
"Why can't I play?" She demanded, her voice shrill in its unhappiness. She stamped a foot to further emphasize her question.
"Because you're just a girl," the taller boy replied, pursing his lips in irritation. Winnie stamped her foot again, and the smaller boy, the blond haired one with the soft voice, stepped around his friend. He shot her an uncertain smile, glanced up quickly at his dark-haired companion, and then waved a hand in between them.
"Girls don't like playing boy games, so we thought you wouldn't neither," he explained, raising his eyebrows at her in a way that clearly showed that he hoped that she understood. "My mother says girls can do anything a boy a can!" Winnie shot back indignantly.
Steve Rogers opened his mouth to respond, but as always, his best friend took the lead. He moved past Steve to stand a few steps from Winnie, looking down at her and smirking.
"I never heard of anyone's mother saying that," he said in a mocking voice, "I guess girls can tell a whopper as good as a boy, at least." Winnie's little face scrunched up in sudden anger and she pointed at the taller boy.
"I'm no liar!" She exclaimed loudly. He smiled wider and pushed her pointing finger away from him, before leaning down closer to her and saying in a mean voice, "Well, if you ain't, then I guess your mother is!"
Left speechless by the momentous insult against her dearest and most perfect mother, Winnie gaped at the boy beaming victoriously, her mouth hanging open in almost exaggerated-looking surprise. The boy smiled triumphantly and turned his back on Winnie, clapping an arm around Steve's thin little shoulders.
"Come on Steve, let's go!" He said pleasantly. Steve cast one last, guilt-ridden look back at Winnie, so he managed to flinch out of the way just in time; the girl launched herself at the one who had so badly besmirched her mother's honour, hollering like a banshee.
Steve stumbled back and watched in horror as Winnie, all knobby knees and brown braids, threw herself onto the taller boy's back, both of them tumbling to the ground, her pink dress sailing out behind her.
The boy managed to roll to his back and tried to hold her off but she began to whale on him, yelling, "You take that back Bucky Barnes! My mother ain't a liar! You take it back!"
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Of course, Bucky had taken a beating from his father for that fight, even though he certainly didn't start it, and, almost shamefully, he hadn't finished it either. Winnie fought like a vengeful spirit, punching him and hollering at him, until he found himself forced to call uncle. If she'd been a boy, then I woulda won for sure, he thought to himself later, as he lay on his belly across his bed, resting his sore backside – his Pa's belt had left its mark, to be certain.
A passing adult had come upon the scene and yanked Winnie off him, before pulling Bucky to his feet by his ear, so violently he thought he'd bite his tongue off when his teeth clacked together.
"James Buchanan Barnes! For shame!" The woman yelled at him, and he peered up at the intervener, panting and unhappy, to see his next door neighbour, Mrs. Haversham, a round, red faced woman who yelled at her family all the time.
"Why, I never!When your Pa finds out you hit a little girl half your size, he'll tan your hide! And rightly so!" Her indignant tones of disbelief rang through the air, and Bucky had looked pleadingly over at Steve for some back-up, only to find his traitorous best friend hovering near Winnie, asking if she was ok.
Mrs. Haversham grabbed his ear again and began to yank him away and Bucky began to blabber, "I didn't do nothing! She started it! Aw, please Missus Haversham! I swear it!" She clucked her tongue at him, and pulled him forward.
"In the eyes of God, boy, just listen to the lies sprouting from your mouth!" Her tones were growing yet more horrified and he glanced over his shoulder, his ear pulling smartly in her strong-fingered grasp. Winnie stood next to Steve, both hands planted on her hips, her tongue sticking out like a bright red flag at him. Her face was crinkled with the force of her pulled expression.
Bucky vowed then and there that he was going to hate that horrible little girl forever.
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"Winifred Leigh Johnson!" Her mother hollered in horror, "What have you done to your dress!" Winnie's eyes went wide as she spluttered and stammered and tried to explain, but her mother dragged her upstairs, made her take a bath and get changed, and then sat her to do sums for the rest of afternoon as punishment for brawling in the street like a shameless drunk.
"He called you a liar, Ma!" She cried from her little desk, her schoolbooks on the desktop before her. Her mother stood in the bedroom doorway, her face tired and drawn as she shook her head firmly.
"Winnie," her mother sighed, the sound of exasperation thick in her voice, "You can't go picking fights with people over every little thing!"
"But Ma –"
"No buts," her mother interrupted, "I know I told you that you could do anything any boy did, but I did not mean that you could, or should, lay your hands on someone like that – losing your temper like a little barbarian?" She shook her head at Winnie, her lips pressed together tightly.
"I'm so disappointed in you," her mother said, "Now, do your sums – I'll quiz you on them later. It's far better for you to put your mind to things like schooling, and excel past the boys there, than to jump random hooligans in the street and do what you did!"
Winnie nodded miserably and her mother left the room. Turning back to her books, flopping them open resentfully, she didn't hear her mother's quiet laughter in the hallway, and she didn't see the way her mother smiled and shook her head. Mrs. Johnson was quite amused by her little spitfire of a daughter, but really had no intention of encouraging the behaviour.
No, Winnie missed all that and was left with a burning resentment towards Bucky Barnes, Steve Rogers (though, hadn't he been a dear asking if she was ok?), and Mrs. Haversham for breaking them up and getting them all in hot water. She decided the real problem here, the real villain, was the monster who dared to call her saint of a mother a liar: Bucky Barnes.
Winnie just knew that she was going to hate that stupid boy for the rest of her life.
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Steve had never felt more terrible in all of his life. Sitting on the dingy sofa in his small living room, Steve rested his head in his hands and just wallowed in his young guilt. He hadn't defended a girl from a bully, which his mother always told him a boy was honor bound to do. And on the other side of the coin, he hadn't stood by his friend, and defended him from the wild girl or from the terrifying Mrs. Haversham.
"What's got you down, Half Pint?" His father asked, his voice unkind. Steve looked up and shrugged uncomfortably, not wanting to get into it with the old man when it was pretty clear he'd been on the hooch for the better part of the day. His father shrugged and leaned back in his chair, listening to the radio.
"If you're just going to mope, then get on out of here, tired of lookin' at that wet mug," his father added, his eyes glaring over at Steve briefly. The boy hopped to his feet and raced into the little kitchen, where his mother was stirring something over the stove.
"Did you have a nice time with Bucky today, dear?" She asked him in a soft voice, not looking back at him.
"Buck got in another fight," Steve answered quietly, staring down at his small, pale hands. 'Girls hands' his dad always said, 'surgeon's hands' his mother would whisper to him softly, to ease the sting. His mother sighed and shook her head. "That boy always had more spark than wisdom," she replied. Steve shrugged.
"Tell me, dear, why does this time bother you?" She asked him, shaking some spices into the pot.
"It was a girl, this time," Steve told her, and she turned around to look at him, her blue eyes large and startled. "Oh that's terrible!" She cried softly, and Steve shrugged one shoulder.
"Bucky was just bein' Bucky and made her mad and she whooped him good," he told his mother, smiling with her briefly when she chuckled at this news.
"Well, I think he needed to get knocked down a peg or two, don't you?" She asked him teasingly. Steve smiled and then pressed his lips together, looking at his hands again. "I didn't help her when he was being mean, and I didn't help him when she was whaling on him!" He finally cried.
His mother smiled and nodded, pleased that they had finally gotten to the crux of what was bothering her boy. She stepped towards him and knelt at this feet, taking his hands in her calloused ones.
"It sounds to me like this girl could take care of herself," his mother said, and Steve nodded. "She was something else!" He told her, his face lighting up for a moment.
"Who was it?" She asked, and he replied, "Winnie Johnson." His mother's eyebrows shot up and she smiled a little smile as she got to her feet and moved back to the stove.
"Isn't she that pretty little girl whose father owns the dress shop?" His mother asked, her tone heavy with affected casualness – Steve didn't know that his mother was more than aware that her son was sweet on the little girl.
Steve nodded and he smiled dreamily, imagining Winnie in her pretty little dresses, always beautifully cut and fit, but constantly stained and ripped from her style of play. He smiled larger remembering the first day he met her and saw her smile, her green eyes sparkling, her dark hair shining like the dark silk in her father's shop.
"I think next time, you can tell Bucky that he's not being a gentleman, that he needs to be sweeter to ladies," his mother instructed, knowing in her heart that Bucky would never turn derision on Steve, or bully him. Steve tipped his chin up and nodded, imagining doing that; Bucky would see the error of his ways, and Winnie would turn her shining eyes to Steve, hands clasped under her little pointed chin, sighing "Oh Steve, my hero!"
Yes, Steve was absolutely certain that he would love that girl forever and ever.
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Four years later
"Oh Steve? Steve Rogers?" He heard a girl call from behind him and turned to see Winnie Johnson hurrying after him and Bucky as they made their way home from school. She was out of breath when she came to a stop before him, and the bow that had sat so prettily on top of her head that day in school, was now hanging down over an ear.
"Yes?" He responded softly, fighting to keep the shock from his tone. Winnie held him pinned in her bright green-eyed gaze as she shook her head softly. "I am so sorry for your loss, Steve," she told him gently, her face brimming with genuine feeling, "I meant to talk to you today at recess, but I didn't want to make a scene for you."
Steve shuffled his feet uncomfortably, uncertain about how he should respond. His father was not a good man by then end of his life, and his passing was more of a relief for his mother and himself than anything else.
"Thank you," he managed to reply, his tone weak. "I don't know how you did it," she said, walking along with him and Bucky as the three of them began to head in the general direction of their homes again, "I don't think I'd be brave enough to come back outside of my bedroom ever again if Daddy died."
Steve said nothing, only looked over at her, meeting her sincere gaze. He noted that her cheeks were flushed pink from the autumn cold and she was just about his height, which made him feel inadequate. He glanced up quickly at Bucky. His friend looked unusually solemn, his bright blue eyes kind as he looked back at Steve.
Bucky understood, Steve knew he did. Bucky was the only other person in the world who knew all of Steve's secrets, and two of those secrets were that, 1) Steve wasn't sad his father died, and 2) he was just about head over heels for Winnie Johnson. Bucky had never quite forgiven the trouncing the girl had given him when they were all in 3rd Grade, but he agreed with Steve that she was pretty enough, for a teacher's pet.
Bucky had no trouble with girls, they all seemed to be sweet on him at some point, even a couple of the girls in 8th Grade made eyes at him. Steve guessed he knew why; Bucky was tall for his age, and handsome, with dark hair and snapping blue eyes. He was well built, strong from his work at the metal yard with his father and brothers, and he always seemed to know just what to say.
Winnie never glanced over at Bucky, Steve noted, although that wasn't actually unusual for her; she always ignored Bucky to the point of acting like he didn't exist. Steve briefly wondered if that was a remnant of their tussle when they were 9 years old, but didn't waste too much time on it, besides feeling relieved that she wasn't following Bucky around with starry eyes like the other girls.
She put one small gloved hand on his arm and squeezed him gently. "Well, I am sorry, Steve," she repeated, "If you and your mother need anything, my Mom said you just let her know." Steve nodded gratefully and Winnie smiled at him and turned down her street, hurrying away towards her house. Steve paused on the corner, Bucky at his side, and watched her go.
"Come on Steve, don't stare," Bucky teased, "She's gonna feel your eyes and think you're a creep!" Steve flushed red and kept walking. "That was nice of her, right?" Steve asked hopefully, his tone hinting at more than his words let on. Bucky stopped him and put a hand on his shoulder.
"Steve, you're the greatest guy I know," Bucky told him seriously, "But I'm your best pal and I gotta warn you, I think that came from her ma, not from her." Steve's face fell and he nodded, pulling away from Bucky's hand and walking on.
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Bucky was mad at Winnie all over again, the old hurt from their fight coming back stronger now – he was worried that she was going to break Steve's heart without even realizing it, seeing how she was such a stupid girl. He paused in his thoughts, his dinner fork hovering in front of his mouth.
Well, she's book smart, he thought grudgingly, recollecting her high marks and perfect scores in school, but she's a strange one; no friends, doesn't go out, and doesn't even look at a guy like those other girls!
He didn't admit that it bothered him terribly that she ignored him so thoroughly, not so much as a hello in the street from that one. Winnie stuck to her grudge like a champ. Bucky knew the other girls liked him, and that used to be enough, but he couldn't stand that this girl not only didn't like him, but that she might actually hate him as well.
I only care cause of Steve, he thought hurriedly, cramming his dinner in faster and faster, don't want him interested in a girl that's so darn strange, it isn't right.
He decided to right that wrong and shot out of the kitchen as soon as his father excused them all from the table. The sky was darkening already; it was so close to being winter that he could see his breath in the air. Bucky ran fleetly through the familiar maze of streets that he knew led to the Johnson's handsome, three-leveled home. He climbed the front steps and knocked briskly on the front door. Mr. Johnson answered and glared at him for a moment in the pale light of the outdoor lamp.
"Can I help you?" He asked Bucky suspiciously. Bucky sucked in a breath of air and nodded, straightening his spine with his certainty of the rightness of his mission. "I'm here to speak to Winnie for a moment, sir, if I may," Bucky responded, the way his Ma had taught him, respectful and clear, the way a real man would. Mr. Johnson stared at him through narrowed eyes for a moment more, a look of growing unhappiness on his face.
Bucky had an unpleasant moment where he was certain that Mr. Johnson was judging him for his worn hand-me-downs from his three older brothers, or that the man was thinking about just how much less money the Barnes' had in comparison to the Johnsons. Bucky had always imagined that those with money hated those with less of it, simply because they could. However in this case, Mr. Johnson was simply absorbing the implications of this most newest, and unwelcome, of social scenarios: a male caller for his only daughter.
True, Winnie was 13 now, and pretty as a picture, but he had deluded himself into thinking that he had years yet before this sort of thing happened; she was just a little girl after all! But 13 is not as little as he would have liked and James Buchanan Barnes' tall, lanky form in the doorway was a fairly clear wake-up call.
Mr. Johnson shook his head and waved Bucky inside. Bucky sat in the parlour as the man directed him and looked around at all the fine things the Johnsons had, wishing his mother could be here to see it; she loved fine things. A moment later and there was a small sound at the entry to the parlour and Bucky lurched to his feet, turning to it. Winnie stood there, in the same dress she wore to school, but with her dark hair free of its plaits. It hung in shiny waves down her back.
"Bucky?" She asked him, incredulity soaking the one word. He nodded at her and gestured at the sofa across from the one he had been waiting on, like a gentleman would. One dark eyebrow leapt up in concern and bewilderment, but she slowly lowered herself to the seat, regardless.
"What did you mean coming up to Steve like that today?" He blurted out, with no preamble. Winnie blinked at him in surprise and then drew her brow together slightly in confusion. "That's an awfully silly question," she told him. Bucky shook his head. "No it ain't," he replied in a serious tone, "Did you come up because your mother told you to, or because you wanted to?"
Winnie rearranged herself a little in her seat, tossing her hair the slightest bit. "Of course I wanted to!" She answered him, indignantly, "Steve is a nice boy and I've sat two seats away from him in school since I was 4 years old! His father just died and the respectable thing to do is let someone know how sorry you are!" Bucky leaned back a bit in his seat, feeling slightly shamed, but he remembered how terrible she'd been when they were younger and made a face at her.
"I had to wonder," he told her easily, "Seein' as it's you and all."
"What does that mean?" She asked him angrily, resting her hands on her knees and gripping at handfuls of fabric there. Bucky shrugged and replied, "Well, I had to know if you were bein' cruel to him because of me." Winnie blushed a little and looked away. Seeing an opening, Bucky leaned forward in his seat.
"Do you still hate me?" He asked her. She looked up at him, the blush still spread across her cheeks. "I don't think that it's right for anyone to hate anybody else," she answered him. He made a face, mulling over her words. "Does that mean yes or no?" He asked, persisting with his question.
"Do you still think my mother is a liar?" She shot back, straightening her shoulders. Bucky glanced over at the entryway to the parlour, wondering if Mrs. Johnson could hear them. He felt shame wash over him at the thought. "Naw, of course I don't," he told her, the embarrassment palpable in his tone. She smiled and took a deep breath, nodding. He thought she looked relieved.
"Then, no, Bucky, I don't hate you," she said, "And I've never hated Steve Rogers, he's the nicest person I've ever met, I don't know that a person could hate him." Bucky smiled at her then, pleased with her assessment of his best friend.
They were both silent for a few long moments before Bucky spoke, "So you've been ignoring me all this time because you thought I still thought your Ma was a liar?" Winnie nodded and pressed her lips together, her expression slightly rueful.
"I never did think that," he explained further, enjoying her ensuing smile being directed at him instead of around him for once, "I was just trying to get your goat." She laughed a little and waved a hand at him. "You got my goat alright!" She said teasingly, pretending to box the air in front of herself. Even Bucky had to laugh.
"Think it's a shame though," she told him when their laughter died down, "The three of us could have been good pals, I just know it." Bucky nodded at her.
"Yeah, or you could've been some good protection from other creeps out there!" He responded, one eyebrow raised teasingly. She giggled and nodded. There was a silence for a moment. "Me and Steve are going to the pictures tomorrow," Bucky told her, "Want to join us? We'll probably grab a Coke after." Winnie smiled at him, her eyes caught up in it, sparkling and wide. For the first time, he felt a little flutter of something in his chest.
"That just keen, Bucky, I'd like to," she replied.
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After Bucky left, Winnie leaned her back against their front door and felt her heart thundering along inside her chest. She'd never been more surprised in her entire life than when her father had told that she had a caller. Walking into the parlour and seeing Bucky Barnes sitting awkwardly on her mother's fancy horsehair sofa threw her right into a tizzy. A million thoughts rushed through her head, but nothing could have surprised her more than when Bucky asked about her intentions with Steve earlier that day.
She'd known Steve as a fellow classroom comrade forever, so she'd seen it as only natural to extend her best wishes and condolences. It made her feel squiggly inside when she realized that Bucky likely hated her so much that he assumed she was being mean to Steve somehow.
And now I'm going to the pictures with them, she thought wonderingly, just like a couple of regular pals. She shook her head and made her way up the stairs to her bedroom. Closing her door behind herself, Winnie stared at her school books, at the mountain of studying and lessons she had set for herself for the evening. She had truly taken her mother's words to heart four years ago; if she couldn't fight out her problems, then she was going to surpass every boy in school with her brain.
Winnie kicked off her shoes and curled her legs beneath herself as she sat on her bed, schoolwork forgotten for now. Of course, all the studying, all the homework, all the extra lessons – these things had not made her popular, and had not kept her gaggle of girlfriends close about herself. She'd enjoyed a measure of popularity amongst her peers until she decided to put her nose deep into her books.
Every time she heard about a slumber party, or birthday dinner, a trip to the pictures, or a skating party at the rink, she would weaken for a moment or two, before the image of Bucky's mocking face entered her mind and made her grit her teeth and push through it. She didn't have a definitive reason for why he motivated her to work harder; if she stopped to really think about it, her only reasoning usually sounded something like "I'll show him." And thus, she'd grown her knowledge plenty, while shrinking her social life and losing all her friends.
"Looks like I've got two pals now," she said softly to herself, a smile growing on her face.
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Four Years Later
"It's the very last year!" Bucky crowed, throwing one arm around Steve's shoulder, and the other around Winnie's, "No more pencils, no more books, no more teacher's dirty looks!" Steve laughed and Winnie sighed a little.
"Why so glum, chum?" Bucky asked, dropping his arms and stepping around them both to walk backwards in front of them. Winnie couldn't help but laugh at him and glanced over at Steve. "It's going to be so strange, don't you think?" She asked them both, "After this year, everything changes – I'm going to college, Steve you'll probably go too, and Bucky…" She trailed off and smirked at Bucky.
"Well, I'm sure you'll find something to do!" Winnie teased him. Bucky rolled his eyes and spun about, dropping back to walk in between the two of them. "I can't wait," Bucky responded, "Even getting up for work every day will be better than this!" He swung his book bag ahead of himself. "At the end of a day at work, I can leave it all behind, won't be any kind of extra nonsense at home," he explained.
Winnie nodded and gazed ahead at the sidewalk in front of them. The first few blocks from the school were always thronged with their peers at the beginning of a school day, and today was no different. "Say, Buck, isn't that Jane Wilcox up ahead?" Steve asked, his tone laced with meaning. Bucky looked in the direction Steve gestured and his whole posture changed. Winnie laughed to see it – he switched from their carefree friend to a regular leading man in a matter of seconds.
"Sure is," he replied, reaching up to straighten his collar, "I'll see you two later." He winked at Steve and tweaked the end of Winnie's long braid, which hung in a thick plait over her shoulder, before bounding down the street, approaching the gaggle of young women that the girl in question walked with.
"He sure is confident," Steve murmured, stepping closer to Winnie. She laughed and waved a forgiving hand in Bucky's direction. "He's Bucky, of course he is," she told him, one side of her mouth quirked up. Steve chuckled a little and they were both quiet as they walked. It was one of the things that Winnie like best about Steve, he was very easy to be around. He was smart enough to talk about just about anything, but silences with him were comfortable and spoke to the general coziness of their friendship.
Bucky was easy to be around as well. His boisterous nature, and near-constant desire to have a good time meant that conversation never suffered and they always had options for things to do and places to go. Helps that he's easy on the eyes, too, her inner voice couldn't resist piping in with.
Winnie shook her head briskly and the movement caught Steve's attention. "Something the matter?" He asked her and she smiled over at him. "No, no, just silly thoughts," she told him. He nodded twice and they turned the final corner on the approach to school together.
"So, I was wondering, Winnie," Steve began, his voice tense and halting, "Are you busy this evening?" Winnie glanced over at him, frowning a little before answering. "I doubt there's going to be much homework, seeing that it's the first day of school," she replied slowly, "Why? Did Bucky come up with something? Cause if he did, I think he'll be cancelling before long." She pointed up ahead to where Bucky and Jane Wilcox were walking hand in hand, his dark head dipped down to speak close to Jane's blonde one.
"No, no," Steve stammered, "I was thinking you and I could go to dinner together, maybe go to the pictures afterwards?" Winnie opened her mouth to respond, thinking nothing unusual of his request, when a loud voice called her name from behind them.
"Winnie! Winnie Johnson! Well, look at you kid!" She turned to see Blair, a boy from her advanced classes, jogging up towards them. She blushed without wanting to at the warm smile on his face and nodded at him. "Nice to see you, too, Blair," she responded, smiling shyly.
Blair stepped into the space between her and Steve, causing Steve to take several steps to the side, walking almost in the grass. "Can I walk you the rest of the way?" Blair asked her, his dark eyes flashing at her. She smiled stupidly up into his handsome face, stammering in nervousness. He's so handsome! And so smart! Her inner voice squealed excitedly.
"Why, that would be great, Blair, thank you, we'd love for you to join us, right Steve?" She replied happily, looking past Blair for Steve. But her friend was gone. She looked behind them and realized that Steve had veered off the sidewalk and was cutting through the fields towards school, moving at a quick clip. He turned back and waved at her and she absent-mindedly waved back, smiling even though she knew he was too far away to see it.
"Gee Win, you're just a dish in green," Blair said, capturing her attention again. Winnie blushed furiously at the compliment and glanced down at her kelly green dress. She felt a wash of gratitude that her father had the dress shop; she'd always been well dressed in the newest styles and the latest colors and fashions, but it hadn't meant a lick to her until right this moment. She thought back to a film she'd seen recently, where the heroine was so confident and easy-going around her suitors, and thought she'd try out a line.
"Oh this old thing? Why, I never even thought! Aren't you sweet?" She quoted directly from the movie and it seemed to work, Blair's smile grew hugely. "Say, there's going to be a party at Gene McGuire's tonight, would you go with me?" He asked her smoothly, a charming smile on the heels of his words. Clutching her books against chest with both arms, Winnie nodded, all thoughts of dinner and a show with Steve having flown her mind.
Your first date!
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Steve forced thoughts of Winnie and Blair from his mind, trying not to picture how prettily she had smiled at the other boy, or the easy way Blair had about him, smoothly inserting himself between the two of them, edging Steve out with little to no effort. All through every class that day, he found himself hardly able to focus on the lessons, as he instead spent most of his energy trying not to focus on Winnie.
The two of them shared most classes together, as they each took advanced classes in almost all their academic subjects. This year though, it seemed their plan of trying to get seats across the aisle from each other was not going to happen. Blair had taken up that spot, and all of Winnie's attention, in almost every single class.
Steve told himself to be happy for her, he knew that she had never dated, and didn't seem to expect to. He and Bucky had discussed several times over the last couple of years why that was, because they both agreed that she was certainly one of the prettiest girls in school.
"I think it's because each and every time she opens her mouth and talks, all you can hear is an old wet hen," Bucky had joked the last time they had discussed her, earlier this summer. Steve had laughed weakly, not at an insult, but at what he knew Bucky was trying to say. Winnie was smart, exceedingly so, and enjoyed above all else, lively discourse on the topics that intrigued her, books she had read, news articles she had seen and devoured, and topics she overheard her father and his fellow businessmen discussing at their meetings.
He knew this kind of intellect was not something that most people their age cared for, in either a friend or a girlfriend, but to him it was just part of Winnie. That she and Bucky seemed to be equally as close as she and Steve, baffled him at times. They got along like a house on fire though, with plenty of banter and joking on all sides. Winnie loved to talk academia, but she also loved to laugh, and Bucky could make the Pope laugh, she always said. Steve loved her laugh.
When the school bell rang, signalling the end of their last class, he was shaken from his reverie and took the chance to talk with Winnie before she entered the hallway. "About what I was asking you earlier," he began, deciding to put up a fight and see if he could take her out before Blair whisked her away, "Are you –"
Winnie was smiling hugely, her cheeks flushed, and she interrupted him, grabbing his hands in hers. "Oh Steve, wouldn't you know! Blair asked me to a party tonight!" She cried, her excitement evident. "Did you say yes?" He asked her, his tone forced. She nodded exuberantly and pulled away from him, twirling twice across the front of the classroom.
"I can't believe I have a date! Mother will have to let me wear my new party dress, and perhaps she'll help style my hair!" Winnie said dreamily. Steve nodded dejectedly before an idea came to him. "Will your parents even let you go? Your father seems awful strict about things like this," he offered, trying not to sound pleased. Winnie danced over to him, her smile huge.
"No! Bucky's going with Jane as well and he agreed to tell my father it's a double date and he'll watch out for me!" If Winnie was over the moon, Steve was so far beneath it he couldn't tell you what a moon was. He knew her father would certainly let her go if Bucky was going to be there. After harboring several misgivings at the beginning of the trio's friendship, Mr. Johnson had relaxed and accepted the two boys as Winnie's best chums. He deemed Steve to be harmless, and Bucky too stupid to be any kind of romantic interest for his bright girl, and had given the trio his blessing.
This had thankfully led to many wonderful years of friendship for them, making the three of them nearly inseparable. Life was moving on though, it seemed, and Steve was suddenly aware that he might be left behind. The thought left him so down that he couldn't stand to look at her smile a moment longer.
"Have a wonderful time," he told her quietly, before slipping out the classroom door and dashing down the hallway. He ran all the way home, straight to his front gate, where he nearly collapsed from fatigue, his lungs aching and wheezing as he tried to catch his breath. He slowly opened the front gate of his apartment building and made his way up the three flights of stairs to the stained door to his and his mother's unit.
"Mother? I'm home!" He called, stepping into the kitchen, expecting heat, and the smell of dinner cooking to greet him. But there was nothing. The kitchen was dark and cool, the counters and stove top bare and clean. How strange, he thought, a small bubble of worry sprouting in the pit of his stomach.
"Mother? Mom?" He called, dropping his book bag on the table and walking into the living room. Everything was still and dark in there, and he walked down the short hallway to his mother's bedroom door, which was closed. Serious misgiving had begun to grow inside of him and he was certain he didn't want to open the door.
He knocked carefully and there was no response. "Mother?" He called softly, knocking again, much more forcefully this time. There was still no response and, closing his eyes for a moment and taking a deep breath, Steve pushed the door open and found his mother, sprawled across the floor, still in the dressing gown and slippers she'd had on while making him breakfast this morning.
"Mother!" He cried loudly, racing to her and dropping to his knees next to her. He rolled her carefully to her back and knew at once that she was gone. "Oh Mom, oh no," Steve whispered.
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Bucky arrived with Jane at Winnie's front door at 6pm, knocking smartly. Mrs. Johnson answered with a smile. "Why James! Look at you, don't you look smart?" She exclaimed happily, waving him and Jane inside. After introductions were exchanged, they waited in the parlour for Winnie. "She'll be down any minute, just doing some last minute primping, I imagine," Mrs. Johnson told them playfully.
"Mother!" Winnie cried from the doorway, blushing at her mother's words. Bucky looked up and to him it seemed that the world stood still for a moment. Winnie no longer looked like a pretty little school girl, she was every inch a lovely young woman. Her dress was a chocolate brown with a light green floral pattern speckled across it; the brown made her hair, which hung in thick waves, look polished and rich, while the green pattern set off her eyes, which fairly glowed in excitement and good humour.
The cut of the dress, and its length, showed off more of her figure than he had ever seen before, and Bucky found that blonde Jane, in her risqué dress which dipped in the back and in the front, looked like she was trying too hard to be glamorous.
"Wow, Winnie," Bucky said, climbing to his feet to greet her, "Don't you clean up well?" She smirked a little at him and glanced over at the clock on the table next to the sofa. "He'll be here," her mother soothed quietly. He watched Mrs. Johnson adjust the collar on Winnie's dress, smoothing down her daughter's hair in the process, and he couldn't take his eyes off his friend. He wanted to mentally absorb all of her, to really drink in the way she looked, which to him was nothing short of amazing.
Bucky felt a tug at his arm and looked down at his date, and Jane seemed irritated. He sat down next to her and leaned in to hear her hissed words.
"If you stare any harder, you're likely to bore a hole right through her!" Jane's tone was pettish, and it was easy to surmise that she was jealous. He smiled charmingly at her. "Win's my friend, doll," he told her in a placating voice, "I'm happy to see her happy. Of course no girl can hold a candle to you." Jane smiled in satisfaction and plumped at her hair for a moment, a move he knew all the girls did because the ladies in Hollywood were forever doing the same thing in all the films he'd seen.
There was a knock at the door and Blair was led in, where he did an amusing double take at his date. Winnie was blushing like mad under his compliments and soon the quartet was out the door and making their way to the McGuire party. It was a roaring gathering once they got there, and Bucky soon lost Winnie and Blair in the crowd. He thought it was probably better that way. Tomorrow Winnie would be Winnie again, and he could go back to being her friend. Tonight she looked too good, he wanted to keep his distance.
Even though she was here with a date, Bucky couldn't help but feel like she was Steve's to be wooed, and he didn't intend to do anything that might hurt his friend. Sitting with a glass of hooch in his hand, smoking a cigarette and listening to Jane laugh, Bucky felt bad that Steve was home alone tonight. He'd meant to catch up with him after school today, but never had the chance.
I'll have to see him tomorrow, he thought, maybe the three of us could grab a Coke together. He smiled warmly at the mental image of the three of them, chatting and laughing so comfortably and easily with each other; he really couldn't imagine life without the two of them.
"Would you look at that?" Jane said loudly, her voice mean and slurred from the booze, "Little Miss Prissy is just as bad as the rest of us!" She and her friends dissolved into giggles, and Bucky looked up quickly, scanning the crowded room. He saw Winnie, walking unevenly, her hand clasped tightly in Blair's, as he towed her firmly across the room. Towards the bedroom, Bucky thought in concern.
He wanted to go stop them, but realized that wasn't his place; if Winnie wanted to, well, it was her choice. His eyes never left them though, and he saw Blair push open a door, the room black behind it, and watched as Winnie balked, seeming to understand just at that moment what Blair's intention was. Bucky rose to his feet when he saw Winnie pull back, her arm stretching as she attempted to yank it from Blair's tightened grasp.
Blair's brow drew down and, almost hidden from sight behind the crush of milling bodies in the room, he reached out his other hand, snagged Winnie around the waist, and pulled her sharply into the black room. Just before the door was shut, Bucky caught a glimpse of her face, her cheeks flushed and her eyes panicked. Without a second thought he charged across the room, shoving people out of his way. He had just reached the door, his hand wrapped around the handle, when he heard Winnie cry angrily, "I said no!" There was a loud smashing and Bucky threw the door open, terrified he might find her hurt.
Instead, he found Blair laying across the bed, a lamp shattered on the bedspread around him, a small cut on his forehead. Winnie was still holding the base of the lamp in her hand and was panting. Her eyes shot to Bucky when he charged into the room and she sagged in relief.
Dropping the piece of lamp, she walked over to him unsteadily. "I said no," she explained and Bucky opened and closed his mouth, trying to figure out what to say. "Was the lamp your only option?" He asked her and she shrugged. "He wasn't taking no for an answer and I decided it was time to end our date," Winnie told him. Bucky nodded, slipped her hand through his arm and they left the party together.
"Thanks for trying to rescue me," she offered, as they wandered down the street towards her house. Bucky laughed a little and then stopped, just outside the puddle of light on the ground that a streetlamp provided. He turned her to face him and held her shoulders in each of his hands.
"Are you really ok?" He asked her, the concern written all over his face seeming to make it through the light haze she was in, from the alcohol Blair had convinced her to try. Winnie nodded and smiled at him. "I know how to handle a bully," she reminded him. Bucky couldn't stop the smile spreading across his face and then released her shoulders, slinging an arm across her back as they continued towards her house.
"Mrs. Rogers told Steve that you're the kind of girl who can handle herself," he said lightly, "Looks like she was right." Winnie and he laughed together and Bucky felt everything sliding back to the way it used to be. When they reached her house, he walked her up the front steps and they paused in front of the door. She was reaching for her front door when her hand paused and pulled back.
"Bucky!" She cried in a loud whisper, "I've been drinking! My parents will know!" She spun to him and he couldn't help but laugh at the dismay on her face. "Will they? Can you tell?" She demanded, her hand clamping down on his arm and shaking him. Bucky brought a hand up and placed it on top of hers, pulling it gently from the grip she had on his bicep and holding it in his own.
"Winnie," he began, "They definitely will, your breath stinks." She clapped a hand over her mouth and dissolved into giggles behind it. In the dim light of the porch, he saw the striking young woman he'd first seen at the beginning of the night; beautiful, carefree, laughing. He acted without thinking, bending down to her face and planting a kiss right on her laughing mouth.
Winnie froze stock still and didn't respond, and suddenly Bucky sprang backwards, aware that after her miserable failure of a date with that idiot Blair, his dropping an uninvited kiss was likely not wise. Bucky stepped back, his eyes darting around quickly to see what she might grab from nearby to use as a weapon to smack him over the head. She didn't move though, she just held her fingers lightly to her mouth and said, "Oh."
She surprised him when, this time, she stepped towards him, placing both hands on his shoulders and tilting her face up to him. "Kiss me again," she told him, her voice soft. So he did. They stood, gently twined together in a soft kiss for a few long, wonderful moments until they heard the sound of someone at the other side of the door. They launched away from each other, moving into exaggerated stances of casual apartness when Mrs. Johnson pulled the door open.
"Hi Mother! I'm home early! Bucky walked me home, I'm off to bed!" Winnie said over-loudly. Her mother didn't reply and that was when they both realized that she was fully dressed, with her coat, hat, and gloves on. "Oh darling," her mother said sadly, "There's been a terrible tragedy." Bucky blinked at her, not expecting this situation and entirely unsure as to how to react.
"Steve called for you and I spoke with him. I was just on my way to the hospital now," her mother explained, "Steve's mother passed away today."
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Winnie had never felt so unbearably terrible in her entire life. Steve's mother had been a kind woman, over-worked and tired all the time, but the best kind of mother for a boy like Steve; never an unkind word passed her lips towards her only child.
Bucky had taken a ride with her and her mother to the hospital where, her mother explained, Mrs. Rogers had been taken by ambulance and Steve was waiting alone. "Your mother will be on her way shortly, James," Mrs. Johnson told him, "Steve will be coming home with you tonight." Winnie gave her mother a grateful smile for stepping in and taking care of this. Sitting next to Winnie in the back seat, Bucky didn't say a word.
She looked over at him repeatedly, wanting desperately to know what he was thinking. In the face of such loss, she knew that the two of them had better forget what happened, had better never speak about their kiss ever again, least of all to Steve. She knew that once upon a time Steve had been sweet on her, and she wasn't sure about now. A gut feeling told her that he wouldn't be happy either way, and sparing poor Steve further pain was the only path she would take.
Her mother snapped on the radio, and soon light music filled the car. A quick glance up front allowed Winnie to catch her mother's eyes in the mirror, and she knew that she and Bucky were being given a little privacy. Shifting closer to him, Winnie put a light hand on his arm.
"Buck, we need to settle this before we see Steve," she whispered. He turned to her quickly, his eyes wide, but his other features tight with unhappiness. "I'm just about the worst friend a guy could have," Bucky said sadly. Winnie squeezed his arm and shook her head.
"That's not true! You're like a brother to Steve and he's going to need you!" Winnie insisted, "But you can't ever mention this to him." Bucky's eyes narrowed a little bit and he tilted his head to one side as he regarded her. "Why? I think you're right, but I want to know why you think that," he responded quickly. She stared at him for a moment, trying to focus her thoughts, and finding it difficult through the lingering effects of the alcohol. Oh, how unpleasant, she thought to herself, feeling a headache coming on.
"I know there was a time when Steve was sweet on me, before we were all friends, and I don't want to hurt him now with this," Winnie explained softly, "Oh Bucky, can't we go back to how we used to be?" Bucky nodded solemnly and Winnie felt saddened for another reason. Her mother pulled into the hospital parking lot and climbed from the car, leaving the two of them alone for a moment.
Winnie turned and reached for the handle of the car door, when Bucky grabbed her arm, pulling her back to him and holding her up against his chest for a moment. He kissed her, softly and firmly, and Winnie kissed him back. "One for the road," he said, when they pulled apart, "And that's the end of it." Winnie nodded and Bucky flashed her a subdued version of his charming smile.
"Let's go take care of Steve," she replied.
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He held his head in his hands, and pressed on his eyes, hoping that if he just kept pressing down he could hold back any embarrassing tears. Don't cry in public, he urged himself, wait at least until you're home again. Home. There was no one there now. His mind fairly whirled as he thought about everything that would need to be done there. Everything from the small (there's laundry on the line and groceries need to be bought), to the large (do I have to pay for an ambulance? How do I order a funeral? Where did Mom bank?), raced through his head.
"Steve!" He heard Winnie's voice and saw her dashing down the hallway towards him in her party shoes. He was momentarily distracted from his sadness and his worry as he took in the way she looked tonight. He saw behind her, Bucky, charging towards him, stoic and resolute, and behind them, Mrs. Johnson, already at the nurse's station, talking with the women there. Steve climbed to his feet, nearly hunched over, the weight of his grief, worry, and confusion resting unpleasantly on his shoulders.
Winnie collided with him abruptly, wrapping her arms all the way around him and pulling his weary head to her shoulder. She hugged him fiercely and tightly. "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry, Steve," Winnie mumbled into his hair. Another set of arms wrapped around him, enclosing Winnie in the second hug as well, and Steve glanced up at Bucky, pleased beyond measure to have these two here with him right now.
Over the next hour, he sat on the hard chair outside the room where his mother had been pronounced dead from a heart attack. Winnie sat crushed up to one side of him, and Bucky on the other. Bucky's heavy arm sat across Steve's shoulders and Winnie had both of Steve's hands tightly clasped in her own. Mrs. Johnson was taking care of everything. Her husband arrived nearly 15 minutes after they had, with Mr. and Mrs. Barnes. He had driven separately to pick them up and give them a lift.
"Let them handle this," Winnie murmured to him when he made to go join them when it became apparent they were signing forms and checks. "Win, I can't let them pay –", he began, embarrassment flushing his face. Winnie squeezed his hands, her face so close to his it was making his stomach tilt.
"You can and you will," she insisted, "My father wouldn't dream of it being any other way." Steve finally relented and they sat mutely together. Steve watched as doctors came and went, bills were paid, forms were signed, a little parcel was handed to Mrs. Johnson and he realized it was his mother's effects. Soon it seemed like it was time to go. They climbed to their feet and followed the adults out, Winnie and Bucky still bracketing him in between themselves, almost as if to shield him from the world. At the cars, they parted.
"You go with Buck now," Winnie whispered to Steve, her eyes huge in the mostly dark parking lot. Steve nodded briefly and watched as her face grew limpid with sadness for him. "I'll see you first thing in the morning, I swear it," she promised him, "I'm so sorry Steve." He swallowed hard and then nearly fell over when Winnie leaned in the last few inches and planted a soft kiss on his cheek. Her eyes darted briefly up to Bucky before she spun on her heel and followed her mother to the car, climbing in and driving away.
"Come on, Steve, you'll come home with us tonight," Mrs. Barnes said pleasantly. Steve nodded, feeling like a mannequin. Bucky stayed by his side and ushered him in to the backseat of Mr. Johnson's car. He listened, only half aware, as Mr. Johnson and Mr. Barnes discussed the funeral home and the service. "No family," he saw Mr. Barnes' lips form the words, but couldn't hear them, "All alone."
Mrs. Barnes was patting his knee reassuringly, her round motherly face staring at him endlessly, evaluating him in the way he knew only a mother could. Bucky, on his other side didn't seem about to let Steve go, keeping his arm across Steve's shoulders, as if to anchor him.
Maybe not entirely alone, he thought to himself.
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The next morning, Winnie was woken up by her mother. "Darling, I'm going over to Steve's house," her mother said softly. Winnie scrubbed the sleep from her eyes and really looked at her mother, realizing she was wearing a housedress and had her hair up in a scarf.
"What? Why?" Winnie managed to get out, yawning as she swung her legs out of bed.
"We're cleaning it top to bottom, and packing up as many of her things as we can," her mother explained. Winnie went to her closet and began to pull out her clothes, marvelling at her mother. Somehow between late last night and early this morning, she just knew her mother had assembled a battalion of her friends to descend up Steve's little apartment. He's going to have so many casseroles, she thought groggily.
"Where a sensible dress, dear," her mother urged her, "You need to go with Steve when he and your father and the Barnes' go to the funeral home." Winnie swallowed hard at that, feeling her features crumple together a little in sadness. Her mother gently led her back to her bed and made her sit down.
"Get it all out now, darling," her mother said softly and kindly, "Steve needs you to be strong for him." Winnie nodded miserably and allowed herself to cry for her friend, and his loss, and to cry for his mother, a wonderful woman. Her mother pulled out the clothing she wanted Winnie to wear that day, a plain grey dress, a little longer than was fashionable, with a black jacket over top.
"It's not even the funeral yet," Winnie commented, gesturing weakly at the clothes laid out next to her on the bed. Her mother grasped Winnie's chin gently in her hand, turning her daughter's face up to hers. "You don't just mourn in the church or at the cemetery, dear," her mother explained.
With a kiss, her mother was gone and Winnie was left to ready herself. As she performed her morning toilette and dressed herself, Winnie thought back to last night, to Steve's sadness, his poor weary face, drawn and pale in the murky lighting of the hospital hallways.
Her mind wandered further as she attached the slim white belt that went with the dress, securing the hooks as she imagined Bucky's kisses. Her hands went to her mouth and she held her fingers there. As far as first kisses went, these were wonderful, although their timing certainly left much to be desired. Winnie stepped to her dressing table and sat down, running her brush over her hair again and again. She was hopelessly unfocused, her mind and heart swinging wildly from pure elation at how wonderful her brief time with Bucky had been last night, to crushing sadness at how destroyed Steve was like to be at the end of all this.
Swinging her long hair up into a horse's tail, she secured it with a black ribbon and left her room. Her house was oddly empty when she got down there, her mother having already bustled out the door to go scrub and clean at the Rogers', and her father at the shop, like he was most days. There were muffins left on the kitchen table, dozens of them, tucked into a basket with a note from her mother on top of them.
'Take these to the Barnes' please, Winnie'
Winnie nodded at the note and picked up the basket. She began the walk to the Barnes', the heavy basket in her hands, and continued the process of being torn neatly on two: one half desperate to help Steve, to be the good friend he needed, the other half wondering what it would be like to kiss Bucky Barnes when she was stone sober.
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A relative was found in amongst Mrs. Rogers' things and a telegram was sent quickly. Though they had scrubbed and cleaned his home top to bottom, Steve was not allowed to return home yet. Mrs. Barnes had a look of such determination on her face as she told him he was staying with them and there were no two ways about it; he dared not disobey. The woman had raised all four Barnes boys, so he knew she had to be fierce.
Winnie and Bucky stayed each day with him, reading or listening to the radio around the Barnes living room, or in the library at the Johnson house. They walked and chatted quietly, and mostly just kept each other company. Bucky seemed to enjoy the week long break from school, but Winnie was intensely worried about her and Steve falling behind in their lessons, so she made them spend a few hours each day cramming.
Steve didn't mind the distraction, and certainly didn't mind the company.
The relative responded and expressed condolences on Mrs. Rogers' death but made it clear nothing more than that would be forthcoming. "They're worried about you, where you'll live," Winnie whispered to him one day over dinner. The Johnsons had the three of them over this evening, giving Mrs. Barnes and her pantry a break from the extra stomachs.
"Why, I'd stay at home, wouldn't I?" He replied in astonishment. Winnie shook her head and then shrugged. "I've listened to them talking, and they don't think you'll get on alone, they're worried that 17 is too young for you to be all alone," she explained kindly. Steve nodded, certain his mother would have agreed, but further determined that he would neither become a burden on his friend's families, nor would he be moving away to stay at an obscure relative's home.
"I won't go away," he said firmly, and Bucky clapped him on the back. "Darn straight you won't," Bucky replied, his tone a forced kind of cheerfulness. Steve noticed Winnie and Bucky sharing another significant look and wished they would stop doing that. He knew they were both on the same mission: Keep Steve Happy.
At the funeral, it became apparent immediately that his mother hadn't much in the way of friends. The front row of the church was reserved for family, and Steve realized how absurd it was when he sat up there alone for the first few minutes. Bucky and his brothers were the pallbearers, so Winnie darted through the small side aisles to slide up next to Steve, wrapping her arm around him, clutching at his shoulder as if he might try to flee. Bucky joined them soon afterwards and the three of them stayed together the entire service, until it was time to head to the cemetery.
Winnie walked down the aisle of the church hand in hand with Steve. He looked over at her as they followed his mother's exiting casket and she squeezed his hand tightly, giving him a small, encouraging, smile.
It was sunny that day, and Steve felt that was only right; his mother loved the sunshine. After everything, the three of them decided to walk back to the Barnes residence, but Bucky paused at the corner of his street and instead looked down at Steve, an unusual serious expression on his face.
"They say you can go home today, if you really want to, thought I expect you'll be pestered by our mothers plenty when you're there," Bucky told him. Steve smiled, delighted that he could go home, and delighted that he would no longer feel like a burden. He glanced over at Winnie who was watching him with a serious expression on her face.
"I would really like that," Steve told them, "I think I'm ready to be home again." The trio headed to the apartment complex Steve had lived in his entire life and made their way through the gates and up the stairs.
"There's always a mattress at my place with your name on it, Steve," Bucky told him, watching as Steve searched his pockets for his door key. Steve grew flustered from his search and Winnie stooped quickly and slid out the spare hidden under a cinderblock, handing it to him, pressing it into his hand and holding it there.
"You'll always be welcome in our spare bedroom, as well, Mother said so," she told him. Steve took the key from her and unlocked the door.
"I appreciate it, but I want to be on my own now, I can take care of myself," Steve explained, not wanting to have to say aloud that he needed to be alone so he could feel every emotion he needed to without worry of other's watching.
"We just want you to know we're there for you," Winnie told him, her eyes soft and sad. She grabbed his hands in both of hers and Bucky closed his hands over top of theirs, looking Steve in the eyes.
"Yeah, right up to the end of the line," Bucky told him. Winnie smiled and nodded, repeating, "Until the end of the line." Steve watched them both and felt luckier than a fellow in his shoes had any right to be.
"The end of the line," he echoed.