"Hey, kiddo."

I opened my eyes and smiled when I saw Clint sitting right beside my bed. I shifted, wincing slightly at the movement. I felt better than I had that morning, which was saying a lot.

"Hi, Clint."

"I'm here to take you home," he informed me softly. "Are you up for that?"

I nodded, closing my eyes against the pain in my head. "Yeah."

Clint helped me out of bed, grabbing my bag on his way out. Fitz and Skye had come by earlier to say goodbye while Ward stood brooding in the background. Fitz had hugged me as tightly as he dared, telling me to be careful and that he'd see me soon. May and Simmons couldn't make it, but they sent their love. Well, Simmons did. May said she hoped I felt better.

He strapped me into the plane he'd piloted there and then took up his spot up front.

"Where are we going?"

"Your brother moved to DC to be closer to the Triskelion," he informed me. "He's working with Shield now."

Had I been standing up, I would have fallen over. "What?" My voice came out as a hoarse squeak.

"He doesn't know that Shield isn't all it says it is," he soothed, shaking his head. "Calm down. I've been checking up on his missions: he hasn't been doing anything for Hydra." He paused for a few minutes. "He's meeting us at the airfield," he informed me. "I've got somewhere to be, but he's taking you home."

"Thank you for getting me, Clint," I sighed, resting my head against the wall.

"That's what friends are for," he offered me a smile before turning back to face the front.

I curled into a ball and stared out the window, lost in thought. What would Steve say? Would he still be angry with me? Or would he forgive me?

I found myself longing for a time without war, where Steve and I trusted each other completely, where each was the other's right hand man, where both looked out for and loved the other. What had happened to us? When had that relationship faded?

"Stop worrying," Clint called from up front.

I started, frowning slightly. "Why do you think I'm worried?"

"You get this… look on your face when you worry," Clint explained, shrugging slightly. "Your eyebrows crease together. Also, your right hand turns into a fist."

I glanced down to find that he was right, and I relaxed my hand as he chuckled.

"You've got nothing to worry about, Katie," Clint told me, calming me down slightly. "Trust me."

~8~

"Are you okay?"

I glanced up into James's mischievous blue eyes and gave him a worried smile before glancing back down at the ice. We were standing on the edge of a frozen pond, and I was terrified. I had never gone ice skating before, though James claimed that it was lots of fun and that it was on his bucket list that I go ice skating with him before he died. Why that was one of his life's greatest ambitions, I had no idea.

His smile made the color rise to my cheeks, and I blushed fiercely. "I'm okay, I just…" I was afraid of falling. I always had been, and it didn't matter how high the height was: a foot, a yard, a mile… I was terrified by the idea. Currently I was terrified that I would fall through the ice.

"C'mon." He took my gloved hand in his and tugged me lightly towards the pond, grinning. "I'll be with you the whole time."

I glanced back at the shore where other kids were playing, and I took a deep breath before following him. He smiled brightly and laughed as our skates touched the ice, and he immediately started to skate, gliding effortlessly around the edge of the pond. He circled back and took my hand, pulling my gently with him.

It isn't so bad, I thought as we skated. I wobbled continuously, but James was there to steady me. Snowflakes lit on my eyelashes and hair, and the wind bit through my clothes, turning my nose and ears numb but I was still having fun. James stopped for a second, and I joined him, holding on to his jacket to stay upright.

"Thanks for coming, Katie," he smiled down at me. "It means a lot."

I managed a shy smile back, which quickly changed into a surprised 'o' when he want down and kissed me quickly on the cheek. I blinked, feeling a tingling feeling spread out from where his lips had touched my skin. It was James's turn to look shy, and his face burned red as he backtracked.

"I, uh…" he cleared his throat, rubbing the back of his neck with his free hand. "You look real pretty today."

"Bucky!" James was saved from having to say more by a friend of his, who appeared on the opposite side of the pond. "Hey, c'mere!"

"Coming!" James stared skating around the edge of the pond, pulling me with him. I lost my balance and wobbled, falling to my knees a few feet away, breathing heavily. Somewhere in the back of my mind I knew something was wrong, but it wasn't until a crack like a whip cut through the air that panic sang through my veins. I saw James turn, saw his eyes widen in panic, and then I felt the ground disappear from beneath my hands and knees as I screamed.

Icy water closed over my head, and I gasped instinctively as my chest tightened, sending a rush of icy water into my lungs. I kicked, and my head broke the surface again. I coughed, choking on the water, coughing it up, and screamed again. I saw James at the edge, yanking his jacket and shoes off and shouting to his friend. I was hyperventilating, still coughing up water.

I grabbed for the nearest piece of ice but went under again, weighed down by my jacket and shoes. I looked around, disoriented, choking—everything was dark, I couldn't find the hole I'd fallen through—I kicked at my skates, trying to get them off, to swim, but couldn't free myself. I couldn't see. I couldn't breath. I couldn't think.

I'm gonna die down here.

My lungs were filling with water. I thrashed, squeezing my eyes shut, trying to expel the water from my lungs and only succeeding in welcoming more in. Something hooked around my waist, yanking me upwards as I went completely limp.

The next thing I remembered was coughing up water, sucking in oxygen that burned my lungs, spitting up foul tasting lake water. I opened my eyes, blinking away the ice that was forming on my lashes to see James kneeling beside me, dipping wet and panting and looking on the verge of tears. His friend was gone, where I did not know. James looked younger than I had ever seen him, and he was holding onto the sleeve of my jacket like a lifeline.

"J-J-James?" my teeth clattered together. My whole body was shaking like a leaf, and I couldn't get enough air. My voice sounded strangely muffled to my own ears.

He grabbed my shoulder and pulled me into him, holding me close to his chest as he started crying, saying things I couldn't understand through leaden, frozen ears. He tore my jacket off and replaced it with his dry one, doing the same with the socks he'd been wearing.

By then, adults had arrived on the scene. I recognized Mr. Johnson, a doctor who lived a few blocks away. He broke through the crowd and picked me up, scolding James—or that's what it looked like, at least—and handing him his own jacket, dragging him along. I passed out, going limp in the man's arms.

When I woke up again, I was at home. Mom was right beside me, tucking a blanket around my shoulders. I was still shivering.

"Mom?" I rasped, craning my neck to look at her.

She burst into tears, kneeling down and holding me tight to her as she brushed pieces of hair back from my forehead. She rubbed my arms and legs, bringing feeling back into them. "My beautiful girl," she whispered, kissing my forehead. "Thank God you're safe."

"What happened?" I croaked.

"You fell through the ice," she said, pulling herself together and tucking another blanket around me. "Bucky jumped in and got you out."

"Is he okay?"

Mom nodded, smiling as she held a cup of hot chocolate to my lips. "He'll be fine. He's cold, but he should be alright. You're the one he's worried about."

"He kissed me," I remembered suddenly, blushing furiously. "On the cheek. Right before I fell in."

My mother smiled knowingly and brushed her hand across my chilled cheek before leaning forward and kissing my forehead. She said nothing on the subject but instead rose from her spot and went to the kitchen to heat more water on the stove.

When she came out again, she placed a warm, damp rag on my forehead. As she let it go, she started to cough, and she quickly stood up, covering her mouth as she turned away. I sat up, and the blankets fell to my hips. "Mom?"

She shook her head and left the room, and I stood on shaking legs, wrapping the blankets around me like a cape as I followed her down the hall.

"Mom, what's wrong?"

"I'm alright." She was leaning against her bed, trembling slightly, clutching a red handkerchief in her left hand. "I'll be alright, Sweetheart. Trust me."

~8~

Trust me. It seems people said that a lot.

I limped down the stairs onto the tarmac, letting Clint pull my bags along behind me, keeping an arm wrapped around my ribs. I wouldn't be doing much fighting for a while. Steve was waiting for me, leaning against a car, and Natasha was sitting on the hood behind him. She slid off when we got closer, going to speak to Clint.

Steve, who I expected to tell me off, came over and hugged me as tightly as he could without injuring me. When he pulled away, there were tears in his eyes. "I heard what happened," he told me, squeezing my shoulder. "I'm so sorry."

"It's not your fault."

"Yeah, it is." His expression turned grieved. "I was horrible to you, I drove you away, I—"

"Steve," I started, but he spoke over me.

"Katherine."

I started—he rarely used my full name.

"I'm your brother. It's my job to protect you, and I've done a horrible job. Please, let me apologize. Let me make it right."

I studied him for a few seconds, fighting back tears. Did he really think I was angry at him? That I hated him? That he was a horrible brother?

I moved forward and hugged him as tightly as I could, taking a deep breath to keep from crying into his chest. "I love you, Steve," I said into his jacket, which muffled my words.

His voice broke as he hugged me back. "I love you too, kiddo."

~8~

"You live here?" I asked, looking around at the large apartment. He nodded, pulling my bags along with him. To my left was a hallway stretching down to what appeared to be a kitchen and living room. Steve's shield was propped against the wall, and multiple books lined the shelves.

"Yeah, I do."

I glanced back at him. "Alone?"

He gave me a crooked smile and chuckled. "I'm not married, Katie," he reminded me. I heard a touch of bitterness in his voice.

"I know, but…" the look in his eyes stopped me, and I closed my mouth. Nevermind.

He led me to the right, to where two doors sat side-by-side. "This one is your room," he told me, opening the door. "Natasha decorated."

I could see that. I never would have pegged the assassin as an interior decorator, but she did a remarkable job. The whole room was made of light, neutral colors. Bookshelves lined one of the walls, and they were filled with books both fictional and true, ranging from fantasy to stories and documentaries about what had happened between 1940 and the present. Several empty notebooks—at least half a dozen—were squeezed between the Holy Bible and Making History. A glass vase filled with roses sat on the bedside table. A few framed LIFE magazines from the 1930s and 40s lined the walls, all in mint condition. I actually saw a few that I recognized, ones that I remembered reading or seeing in the store windows when I was young. An empty, antique silver picture frame sat on the bedside table beside the flowers.

I gingerly sat down in the linen chair that rested beside the large, open window, closing my eyes as my aching bones breathed a sigh of relief. When I opened them, Steve was setting my bags beside a dresser across from the bed.

"Fury just called," he informed me, shifting slightly. "He needs Natasha and I to leave for a mission immediately." He paused for a moment. "You don't have to stay here," he added. "If you want to look around, you can."

I shook my head. "I think I'll rest up a bit. When will you be back?"

"I don't know. The mission's on the other side of the world." He paused. "Should be back tomorrow morning."

I nodded and stood, wincing. Steve took a step forward, steadying me, and I hugged him tightly. "I love you," I whispered. "Stay safe."

"I will. I love you, Katie."

He disappeared, grabbing his shield as he went, and locked the door behind him. I heard a faint beep, informing me that the security system had turned on.

After that, all I had left to do was to wait. I ended up falling asleep sometime after midnight, passing out from exhaustion. When I woke up, it was to the sound of someone moving around in the kitchen.

It took a few moments to remember that I wasn't on the Bus any longer, and I felt a twinge of sadness that I wouldn't be going down to spar with Grant or May, that I wouldn't have breakfast with Fitz, that I wouldn't be able to beat Skye or Simmons in a card game. At the same time, I felt overjoyed that I was finally with my brother, relatively safe. Hopefully Pierce wouldn't catch wind of the fact that I was back, though, or I'd be in deep trouble.

I stretched, already feeling enormously better than I had the night before. The floor-length mirror on the wall confirmed what I'd already felt: most of the abrasions on my skin were gone, replaced by thin scratches or scars. The contusion on my head had faded to a bruise. My ribs, though sore, were almost completely healed.

I entered the kitchen to see a half-asleep Steve puttering around making coffee.

"Morning," I murmured, crossing my arms over my chest as I watched him pour a laughable amount of sugar into his coffee. He glanced up from his place at the bar and smiled tiredly, reaching out and hugging me around my waist.

"Good morning," he echoed, releasing me. He bent over his coffee, staring blankly into the dark surface, and I walked around the counter to shift through his cabinets. I ended up pulling out a large box of Fruit Loops and pouring myself a heaping bowlful before joining my brother.

"When did you get home?" I asked curiously. It registered a moment later that I'd said 'home' and not 'back'—maybe because home was where the heart is, and a large part of my heart remained with Steve, my only remaining family. The rest of it belonged to James, wherever he was.

"A few hours ago," he replied, nodding slowly. "I got a couple hours of sleep."

I knew he didn't need much sleep anymore, but he still needed more than that, I thought. I let him brood over his coffee for a few minutes before I remembered something important I had to tell him.

"I found out why you forgot me," I told him suddenly, shoveling a large spoonful of cereal into my mouth to avoid saying anything else. Steve choked, sending a spray of coffee across the countertop. He coughed, wiping his face with a dishrag, and ducked down under the sink for a bottle of 409. He mopped up the mess as I watched, silent. The toaster went off, and Steve pulled the bread from the machine, grabbing a jar of jam as well.

I swallowed my mouthful of sugar. "Coulson helped me figure it out," I continued, shifting in my chair. Steve didn't take his eyes off me as he leaned against the counter, watching me with a sad, confused expression I didn't fully understand. "Something called TAHITI… they stole your memories, I think. Replaced them, somehow. Coulson thinks that because of Doctor Erskine's serum, your mind was able to fight back against it, remember the true memories and delete the false ones." I paused. "Does that make sense?"

Steve nodded, deep in thought, and his brow furrowed. "Do you know who did it?" he finally asked, looking up and meeting my gaze.

Hydra. "Yes." When I didn't elaborate, his gaze turned dark.

"Shield."

"Yes."

He wasn't wrong. And maybe right now the best thing for him was to believe first that Shield wasn't all it seemed. It would make it easier for him to understand if and when Hydra revealed itself.

"So… I didn't just forget you?" Steve clarified, looking hopeful.

"No. They made you forget me." I smiled softly, shrugging. "And you still remembered me."

He beamed up at me and then returned to his seat. We finished eating in silence, and I couldn't help but think about how similar this was to our past: how many times we'd wake up and eat breakfast together before we left for school or church.

"I have to go to the Triskelion," Steve informed me after he cleaned up the dishes. "Fury has some explaining to do."

I frowned. "About what?"

"The mission last night. Natasha was given a different mission than the rest of us, and it almost compromised the safety of everyone on board." I winced at the underlying anger in his tone.

"And you want to know why."

"I do." He gave me a tired smile. "Let's do something after. The museum, maybe."

My blood turned cold, and I shook my head. "Eli died there," I whispered.

Steve nodded in understanding and squeezed my shoulder. "You really miss him, don't you?"

"He was a good man," I replied. "The best friend I'd had in a long time."

Steve nodded. "Alright. I'll be home soon. Rest up, and I'll see you later this afternoon."

"Okay," I offered him a weary smile. "Love you."

"I love you, too."