February 27, 1942
"Hold him down!" Magdalena demanded. The soldier she was trying to restrain flailed his arm suddenly and she grabbed it before it hit her face. Using all her weight, she pinned it to the gurney beneath her hands.
"Where's the doctor!?" A soldier to her left asked angrily, looking around the deck. Crew members were running around, helping injured soldiers out of planes, and carrying heavy equipment. There were no doctors in sight. Even though the British naval ship was immense, there were only four doctors for all two hundred people, which meant that it would be practically impossible to find any of them right now.
"Who cares where the doctor is!" Annette yelled from the other side of the table, struggling with the man's other arm. Some of her blonde hair spilled out of her nurse's cap and onto the wound in the middle of the soldier's chest, dying the golden tips red. The man suddenly sat up with a cry, buckling the gurney. Both women reached out frantically to grab him. It took them a few moments, but they forced him back down. Magdalena's arms were starting to ache and the soldiers gathered around her were just standing there, watching her struggle.
"Hold. Him. Down." Magdalena growled at them, growing more frustrated by the second.
"We need the doctor before we do anything." The soldier from before chastised, shooting her a firm look and ruining any charm his British accent gave him.
"He needs morphine or he's going to die from shock!" Annette yelled. Her black eyes flashed at the group of men gathered around them.
"What he needs is a doctor!" The first soldier's voice boomed as he took a few angry steps toward the women. Magdalena was beyond pissed. She looked up, meeting the British man's eyes, and fixed him the sternest look she could muster.
"If he dies," she said through gritted teeth, "it will be because you refused to help him."
The man's eyes narrowed as he clenched his jaw, but he didn't move.
"Where do I hold him, ma'am?" A dark-skinned soldier emerged from the crowd, tying his military jacket around his waist and looking at Magdalena expectantly. She fixed the British man another glare before turning to the volunteer.
"Russell." She said, reading his name tag, "Put your hands on his biceps and make sure he doesn't move when I put the needle in."
Russell immediately followed her directions and held the man in place. Magdalena was happy that he was stocky with a lot of muscle. It was much easier for him to hold the injured soldier down by himself than it had been for her and Annette together. As soon as Russell had the man pinned, Magdalena retrieved a syringe and bottle of morphine from her med pack. She expertly tied a tourniquet around the man's arm then filled the syringe, holding it just above his skin.
"Uggh," Russell moaned, turning his head away, "I hate needles."
Annette giggled and Magdalena fought back a smile as she sunk the needle into the man's vein. When it pierced his skin, he started to fight back but the drug took effect almost immediately. He slumped down onto the gurney, unconscious. Annette heaved a relieved sigh and started to inspect the wound underneath the man's shirt while Magdalena packed away her things. Russell still had his head bent, clutching the unconscious man's arms tightly.
"You can let go now." Magdalena mumbled, a small smile on her lips. It didn't seem like he heard her though because he kept his eyes clamped shut.
Annette poked him on the arm, "You don't have to hold him anymore."
Russell jolted upward at her touch. He lifted his head and moved his hands, looking embarrassed.
"Sorry," he muttered in a heavy Welsh accent, "needles make me squeamish."
Magdalena smiled at him kindly. "I'm sure you'll survive."
"I think this guy needs surgery, Mags." Annette mumbled, still inspecting the man's chest wound.
Magdalena leaned over to see for herself. She pulled the blood-soaked shirt to the side, exposing what looked like six or seven shrapnel wounds. A few pieces of metal poked out of the holes, jagged and covered in blood. Sighing, Magdalena gently covered his chest.
"You're right." She said, taking the breaks off the gurney, "looks like he has to go to Dr. Dawson."
Annette made a sour face, "Do we have to go?"
Magdalena nodded unhappily.
"What's wrong with Dr. Dawson?" Russell asked.
"Everything."
"Annette!" Magdalena shot her friend a shocked look.
"What?" the blonde shrugged, "I'm just being honest."
Magdalena rolled her eyes and started to push the gurney along the tarmac toward the infirmary.
"I always thought he was a pretty decent bloke." Russell said, following after her, or rather, following after Annette.
"I'm sure he's not too bad around you," Annette gestured to him aggressively, "it's us he has a problem with."
Russell frowned, "Why?"
"He's an arrogant son of a…"
"He has a problem with women helping him do his job." Magdalena said shortly, cutting Annette off before she flew off the handle. Anytime Dr. Dawson was brought up in conversation, Annette would rant for hours which Magdalena then had to listen to. Usually she thought it was funny, but right now, she was way too exhausted.
Annette shook her head angrily. "That's putting it mildly, Mags, and you know it."
Magdalena didn't say anything, knowing her friend was right.
"If I were his boss, I would've fired him thirty years ago." Annette huffed.
"I wouldn't." Magdalena said.
"Why not?"
"Well," she explained, mischief shining in her eyes, "if I were his boss, I could make him work exclusively with women. That way, he'd either have to learn to get used to it, or give up and quit."
Russell burst into laughter, "Man! I didn't expect that from you, shortie!"
"Nah," Annette said, a small smile on her red lips, "she's the brains out of the two of us."
Magdalena blushed but smiled happily.
"What does that make you, then?" Russell asked coyly, his dark eyes boring into Annette's. Magdalena rolled her eyes and pushed the gurney faster, almost running it into a wall as she entered the helm of the ship.
"I'm the fun one." Annette peered down at the shorter man through her lashes, her lips pulled up in a suggestive smirk.
"Oh yeah?" Russell asked, slowing his pace and making Annette stop too.
"Yeah."
"You know," Magdalena stopped walking and turned toward the couple who were at least ten feet behind her, "I'm pretty sure this guy is dying. You two can flirt later."
Annette giggled but had the decency to look embarrassed. She shot one more flirtatious look at Russell before sauntering over to Magdalena, swishing her hips purposefully with every step. The two women took hold of the gurney and started down the hallway again.
"You're not even going to tell him where to find you?" Magdalena asked, amused, once Russell was out of sight.
"If he really wants to find me, he will."
Before she could respond, one of the soldiers wolf-whistled as they hurried past the mess hall. Although that was common, Magdalena still blushed. Annette, though, simply raised her middle finger in their direction and continued without turning.
Magdalena laughed, shaking her head at her friend's confidence. Annette was an enigma. She was easily the most beautiful girl Magdalena had ever seen, something the soldiers seemed to agree with. Defined features and Amazonian height made her both intimidating and alluring, statue-like. There was something almost angelic about her golden hair, yet smoky black eyes hinted at mystery, her gaze always piercing. People were drawn to her by the way she carried herself, smooth and sure. Things Magdalena wished she could be.
"So, how will Dr. Dawson mess up Mr. Holes in the Chest?" Annette asked as they neared the infirmary.
"Hmm," Magdalena thought, playing the game they always did, "Probably the extraction."
Annette hummed in agreement, "Go too far in and make the wounds worse?"
"More like forget to use clean probes."
"Loser gets to choose a letter?!" Annette pleaded excitedly.
Magdalena rolled her eyes, "Fine. Just this once."
"Yes!" the blonde grinned, "No taking it back! You're going to regret this."
"We'll see."
Annette smiled cheekily and helped Magdalena maneuver the gurney into the infirmary. They tried to get through as fast as they could but the room was overcrowded with beds, supplies, and people. Each bed they passed was taken by a bleeding, unconscious, or wailing man. There were even a few soldiers lying on crudely made cots on the floor. Nurses were busily running around the room. Although most of the women were British military nurses, there were a few from the Stark Foundation, Magdalena and Annette included.
"Let's put him near the operation room," Magdalena said, "maybe he'll get into surgery faster that way."
Annette nodded in agreement, seeing the long line of soldiers waiting to be helped. Even though the nurses did their jobs exceptionally, the infirmary was chaos. It was the closest the women were allowed to get to a warzone and, although Magdalena had never actually seen a warzone, the infirmary, in her opinion, was worse. Seeing a man get shot would be horrible, true, but it was absolutely soul crushing to see him afterward, writhing in pain, slowly losing himself and begging for the people he loved who couldn't even hear him. After months to fighting, he would die; despite how much medicine he had or how hard she tried.
Magdalena looked down at the soldier on her gurney, hoping he would be different.
"I'll go find Dr. Horrible." Annette gave a sigh as they reached the other end of the room. She lifted her head high and purposefully walking into the operation room. After a few minutes she returned, her face looking even sharper than normal. A sign that she was royally pissed off. Annette marched across the room and came to stand next to Magdalena.
"I told him to follow me or I would start the surgery without him." She said, seeing Magdalena's confused expression, "I'm not waiting more than thirty more seconds."
They didn't have to wait that long though. The doors to the operation room burst open and a plump man emerged. With a snap, Dr. Dawson ripped the gloves off his hands, glaring at Annette over his round spectacles. Annette glared back at him happily even after he broke eye contact with her to inspect the soldier's shrapnel wounds.
"Whiskey, probe, needle, thread." Dr. Dawson demanded without looking up, shoving his hand out.
Both women bristled but Magdalena quickly retrieved the items. She not so gently thrust the whiskey bottle into his hand. The rest of the procedure carried on in the same manner; Dr. Dawson not saying anything the entire time, only communicating in grunts and irritated hand gestures. The women frowned through it all, that is, until Dr. Dawson shoved the probe too far into one of the wounds, making blood pool on the man's chest. Annette grinned victoriously at Magdalena who just stuck her tongue out at her friend.
Once the surgery was done, Dr. Dawson threw his equipment on the table and left without a word.
"Can I please stab him?" Annette asked, frowning seriously after the doctor's retreating back.
Magdalena giggled, "I won't stop you, but you might get fired."
"It's worth it."
"Come on," Magdalena laughed as she started cleaning up the work station, "our shift ends in fifteen minutes. Let's finish up and get out of here. I've had enough of soldiers today."
"Tell me about it." Annette mumbled, placing a hand on the shorter woman's shoulder before starting to gather the bloodied instruments.
Twenty-five minutes later, the women were locked in their shared cabin, happy to be away from the rest of the world. They immediately changed out of their uniform and into pajamas. Although the Stark Foundation uniform was better than the military one (it had pants instead of a skirt), Magdalena would choose her oversized shirts and loose shorts to a uniform any day.
"Alright, Mags," Annette plopped onto Magdalena's bed, "Hand them over!"
Magdalena stuffed a cookie into her mouth instead of answering.
"We had a deal!" Annette whined, throwing her head onto Magdalena's lap dramatically.
"I don't know what you're talking about." Magdalena mumbled, trying to act nonchalant. She couldn't hide her guilty smirk, though.
Annette groaned loudly, "Yes you do! We had a bet! Dr. Dawson messed up the extraction like I said he would and now you owe me a letter. I get to choose."
Magdalena looked down at the girl in her lap. Annette smiled innocently and batted her eyes.
"Do I have to?" Magdalena sighed.
Annette nodded emphatically, making the bed jiggle.
With an overly dramatic sigh, Magdalena relented and reached for the stack of letters she kept in her night stand. Even though she didn't want Annette to read any of her personal letters, she had made a deal. Plus, Annette had been begging to read them for a long time, especially ones from a certain man back in New York…
As soon as the letters were out of the drawer, Annette let out a high-pitched squeal and sat up quickly. Her blonde hair stuck up in every direction with static but she was too excited to try and fix it. Magdalena placed the letters in Annette's outstretched hands.
"Is this all of them?" Annette narrowed her eyes suspiciously, making Magdalena groan.
"Yes, it's all of them."
The blonde smiled brightly, "Good."
With that, Annette began sorting through the stack at record speed. Letters rained down on Magdalena. She fumbled and barely managed to catch them, looking at Annette with slight frustration. Annette, though, was entirely too preoccupied to notice. It looked like she was barely reading the envelopes before she would either throw it at Magdalena or into a small pile next to her crossed legs.
"What the hell are you doing?" Magdalena asked, bewildered, once all the letters had been sorted in whatever crazy way Annette had been sorting them.
The blonde smiled and collected her pile of letter into her hands. "Finding all the letters from Mr. James Buchanan Barnes."
Magdalena's face flushed red. It was now obvious to her that Annette's stack of letters was at least twice as thick as the stack she held in her own hands. She thumbed through them. All the letters from her mother, cousins, and Steve didn't add up to the number of letters sent by Bucky. She looked down, trying to use a curtain of curls to hide the small smile she was failing to force down.
"Ugh! Mags! Just tell me which one's the juiciest!"
Magdalena looked up to see her friend holding an envelope up to the light, trying to see what was inside.
"That still counts as reading!" she laughed, snatching the letter out of Annette's hands.
"There's so many!" Annette threw her hands down, "I might pick a boring one! He could be talking about… I don't know! Grocery shopping!"
"Well, his dad does own a store," Magdalena smiled mischievously, "so that could happen."
"Mags, please! We've been friends for three years! I just want to know about your man." Annette reached forward pleadingly, opening her hands, "Just give me a good one."
The women stared at each other for a moment before Magdalena sighed.
"Fine, but only because I love you," she relented, picking up the rest of Bucky's letters and sifting through them, "And he's not my man."
Annette scoffed but sat up straight, eagerly waiting.
Magdalena plucked one of the letters from the pile and held it out. The moment it was in the air, Annette grabbed it, opening the envelope and removing the yellowed paper filled with scribbles. She smiled her white toothed smile and placed a pillow behind her back, snuggling into it and clearing her throat dramatically.
"Dear Mags," Annette began reading, shooting Magdalena a happy grin. The brunette smiled with a shake of her head and leaned back on her bed. Breathing deeply, she hung her legs off the edge and closed her eyes, listening to Annette read.
"Steve and I finally finished moving into our apartment today. Mom was there and, of course, she cried. She said she was sad to see her baby boy move out. Maybe she forgot that I'm twenty-three? Not to mention that I have Steve to protect me, so there's absolutely nothing to cry about. Though, If I'm being honest, I will miss her and the rest of the kiddos. Please don't tell her that or she might make me move back home."
"Aw he's a momma's boy!" Annette giggled. Magdalena smiled and hummed in agreement.
"When everyone left," Annette continued, "Steve and I made cookies like his mom used to make. We thought she should be part of it all, it's only right. We also turned on the old jazz tunes. I tried to get Steve to dance but he wasn't having it. You know how he is.
Overall, the day was pretty great but it wasn't the same without you. It feels like something's missing when you're gone. I miss talking to you, and I miss giving you boxing lessons, and all the times we would sit up on the roof and watch the stars. Sometimes I go up there by myself but it doesn't feel right.
I've been thinking a lot about when we saw each other last. Saying good bye to you is never easy but it was worse this time. Even though you tried to hide it, I knew you were afraid of going over there, with the war and all, and I know you're still afraid. It must be terrifying being in the middle of a war so far away between countries that aren't even yours. Even worse, though, is not knowing when you'll be coming back. That's the part I hate the most.
I wish more than anything that I could be with you and I want you to know that if America was in the war, I would go and be right there next to you. In a heartbeat. The problem, though, is that I can't be next to you. We've been together constantly, and, ever since Coney Island, all I've wanted to do is be near you. For a while it was perfect, but then you had to go again. I know it's not your fault and I would never want you to do anything other than the job that you love, but seeing you go is hard. I can't be close to you the way I want to be and, just when I think I've got you back, you're whisked away. And, now, with the war, who knows when I'll see you again.
I don't know exactly what I'm trying to say, but, if you feel the same way I do, then I think you understand. You mean more to me than pretty much anyone else, and, when you get back, we can pick up where we left off. Maybe we can finally figure us out.
Until then, just stay out of trouble. If it comes your way, I know you'll want to run into it and help whoever you can, but please, for me, don't. Helping yourself is noble too. Don't do anything stupid and come back to me.
Stay safe.
Love, Bucky."
Annette's voice drifted off and Magdalena sighed. She had read that letter at least a dozen times, but it still made her heart ache.
"You had to give me a depressing one." Annette sighed, trying to lighten the mood.
Magdalena chuckled softly, "I know. I'm the worst."
The bed shifted, rocking Magdalena back and forth. She cracked open an eye to see Annette now lying next to her, legs thrown over the side and head touching the wall. They lay there for a while, listening to the hum of the ship's engine.
"You okay, Mags?" Annette turned and looked down at her friend.
Magdalena nodded and gave a non-convincing smile, "Yeah, I'm okay."
"Are you sure?"
Magdalena sighed and closed her eyes again.
Was she sure? She was skilled at convincing herself that everything was always okay. Although it kept her sane, it also kept her from really thinking about her feelings; and she had a lot of those.
So much had changed between her and Bucky. She didn't know why or where they were going, but she did know that being with him made her happy… calm. Right now, her world was a rush of uncertainty. It was like she was being pulled every which way. Being around other people was confusing, she never knew how to carry herself in front of other people, always doing or saying something embarrassing, and her job had her constantly moving. But she couldn't deny that she liked it. Some part of her thought that, with all the travelling, one day she would find somewhere she belonged.
Yet, she was slowly realizing that nowhere made her feel as safe or as content as when she was with Bucky.
She sighed, opening her eyes, and looked out at the sea through their small window.
"I really miss him." Magdalena whispered, summarizing all the things she had been feeling.
Annette's fingers wrapped around Magdalena's.
"How long has it been since you've seen him?"
"Fifteen months. He sent that letter a couple weeks after I left."
Annette hummed softly, "What do you think about it?"
"The letter?"
"Mhm."
Magdalena was silent for a moment.
"I think he's right." She mumbled.
"About what? He was pretty vague."
Magdalena looked up to see Annette grinning at her.
"I know." Magdalena rolled her eyes but gave a soft smile, "He probably didn't want to say too much…" she shook her head and looked back over at the ocean, "Like I said, he's not my man. We don't really… have anything."
Annette scoffed loudly, "Don't have anything? Did you even read the letter? That boy is head over heels!"
She sat up suddenly, grabbing the letter off the bed where she left it.
"'It feels like something's missing when you're gone.'" She read, raising a sculpted brow at Magdalena over the paper, "'I wish more than anything that I could be with you… you mean more to me than pretty much anyone else… come back to me!'"
Annette threw her hands down, her eyes wide and an exasperated look on her face. "If you think you don't have anything, then you really are hopeless."
She gasped suddenly, placing her hand on Magdalena's shoulder and looking at her with fake concern, "Do we need to have 'the talk'?"
"No!" Magdalena shoved Annette away and sat up, ignoring her tinkling laughter. She gave the blonde an annoyed look before shaking her head.
"Come on, Mags!" Annette said through her giggles, "I'm only teasing." She bumped the smaller woman with her shoulder and Magdalena couldn't help but smile.
"Okay, really now," Annette sobered, "what do you think he's right about?"
Magdalena thought for a moment, leaning back against the wall, "About putting whatever is going on between us on hold until I get back. I mean, it makes sense. We don't have anything official and everything is so uncertain right now. We can't even see each other, so we can't really…" she waved her hands awkwardly in front of her, "do anything."
"And do you want to 'do anything'?" Annette asked, grabbing Magdalena's hands to stop her flailing.
Magdalena blushed and folded her hands on her lap. Looking down at them, she frowned.
"I like him a lot, 'Nette."
"And he likes you a lot!" Annette said before poking Magdalena's knee, "Why the long face? That should make you happy."
Magdalena gave a small nod, "I know and it does… It did... But it's been so long. I've been gone for more than a year and he could, literally, have anyone else. I find it hard to believe that he'd wait for me."
Annette suddenly reached forward and whacked Magdalena on the head.
"Ow!" Magdalena yelled, holding a hand to her now throbbing head and looking at Annette, offended, "What was that for?!"
"For being stupid." Annette said sassily, "You want to know why he'd wait for you?"
"Why?" Magdalena asked, still irritated.
"Because he wants you! See, right here!" she shoved the letter into Magdalena's face, almost touching her nose with it, "He said that, when you get back, you two can pick up where you left off!"
Magdalena pushed the letter out of her face with a small frown, "Things change."
"Why are you so negative?"
"I'm just preparing myself. I don't need to get my hopes up only to realize how ridiculous I was."
"Well you're being pretty ridiculous right now so I can't imagine it getting worse."
The women glared at each other, clearly at an impasse. Before Magdalena could say anything sassy, there was a knock at their door.
"Someone's knocking on the door." Annette said in a patronizing tone, "Just thought I'd tell you, since, you know, you're incapable of noticing anything."
Magdalena stuck her tongue out at Annette's back as she gracefully stood and opened the door. Being so tall, the blonde filled up most of the space between the doorway, but Magdalena could make out the familiar shape of a well-dressed man. He stood an inch or two shorter than Annette, though that was still tall by most standards.
"Hello ladies." The man gave a cocky smile and stepped into the room.
"Howard," Magdalena said, surprised, and turned to face him, "what are you doing here?"
"Probably flirting." Annette shut the door. She folded her arms across her chest, giving Howard a look to let him know she was judging him.
Howard's grin grew wider, "What can I say? I have a weakness."
Magdalena shook her head but smiled despite herself. "I see the mustache is growing in nicely." She teased. The confident look on Howard's face fell, slightly.
"That's a mustache?" Annette asked, leaning down close to the shorter man's face, "I thought it was a ferret."
"Ha. Very original." Howard said flatly. Annette laughed at the slight look of displeasure on his face and walked toward Magdalena. The women high fived quickly before they both walked to their small closet.
"You do know I'm your boss, right?" Howard stared at the women, confused.
Magdalena poked her head out, "Oh we know. You never let us forget it."
Annette barely stifled a giggle as she carried a large pile of her clothes from the closet and threw them on her bed with a small grunt. Magdalena was very glad that she had a small wardrobe. She easily took down the few items she had hung in the closet and placed them on her bed.
"What are you two doing?" Howard asked, bewildered.
"We are leaving, aren't we?" Annette asked, pausing from packing her things into a small suitcase.
Howard frowned but a small, impressed smile tugged at his lips. "How'd you know?"
"Well the US is part of the war now." Magdalena said, "Annette and I have been wondering when you would show up."
"Took your sweet time, too." Annette mumbled from her perch on top of her suitcase, trying to get it to close. "Pearl Harbor was, what? Two months ago?"
"Excuse me for not making the United States military get their shit together fast enough." Howard said sarcastically, raising his perfectly plucked eyebrows. He probably spent more money on one haircut than Magdalena had spent in her lifetime.
"You're not forgiven." Annette stated simply.
"Yeah," Magdalena said, placing her now packed suitcase on the floor, "I thought you were supposed to be powerful or something?"
"Oh, I am." He said, putting his hands in his pockets and shooting the women another cocky smile.
"Keep telling yourself that." Magdalena laughed at his slightly sour expression and stood on her tip toes to press a kiss to his cheek. He smiled down at her and patted the top of her head awkwardly but affectionately before Magdalena disappeared behind a small changing screen to get out of her pajamas.
"So!" Annette exclaimed, jumping up after finally managing to close her suitcase. "Where are we going?"
"The first American troops are supposed to land in England in two days." Howard said, leaning against a small desk that sat along the wall, "Since my nurses are the best of the best, you'll be joining them. It'll take a little convincing from yours truly, but I'll get those stuck up generals to let you work as field medics."
"Really?!" Magdalena popped her head around the changing screen. Her curls bounced into her face but she blew them away and stared excitedly at Howard.
"Really, really." He chuckled as she beamed at him.
"You're an angel." Magdalena smiled once more before disappearing behind the screen again, "I'm so sick of working in hospitals."
"Amen." Annette called out.
"Well if all goes well, you ladies will get to do what you signed up for."
Now dressed, Magdalena walked into the middle of the room. She stuffed her pajamas into her suitcase, shrugged into her overcoat, and gathered her things into her arms. Annette did the same and came to stand next to her.
"When do we leave?" the taller woman asked.
Howard smiled amusedly at them before answering, "Well I was going to give you ladies a few hours to pack, but since you're so eager to get out of here, how about thirty minutes?"
"Sounds good to me." Magdalena said, already starting toward the door with Annette at her heels.
"You're just going to leave me here?" Howard said, pouting slightly.
"Yes." Annette said, turning. Cocking her hip to the side, she smiled coquettishly, "There are a few boys I need to say goodbye to." With a flip of her hair, she turned before disappearing into the hall, the sound of her heels clicking on the metal as she walked.
Magdalena laughed heartily and started to follow her.
"You too?" Howard asked, shocked.
"No," she said, "I'm going to the mail room. You're welcome to come with me if you'd like."
"Hmm," Howard smirked, pretending to consider her offer, "tempting, but no thanks. I think I'll follow Annette's example and find someone to say goodbye too." He gave Magdalena a wink and strutted down the hall, his hands still in his pockets, "Maybe two someones!"
"I'm not treating you if you get a disease!" Magdalena called after him. She heard him chuckle and he raised his hand in a small wave.
"Noted." He said, "See you in thirty, short stuff. Don't be late or I'm leaving you here."
Although Magdalena didn't really approve of most of Howard's decisions, she couldn't deny that he was one of her favorite people. It had been awhile since she had seen him but when she did, he always managed to make her smile. With him, everything was an opportunity for a party. She was glad he was her boss, her friend even.
With one last smile in the direction Howard had gone, Magdalena turned sharply on her heels and practically sprinted down the other end of the hall toward the mail room.
I have got to start boxing again, she thought as she started panting. It had been a while since she had stepped foot in a gym. Ever since she got Bucky's letter, she found it difficult. Gyms reminded her of him. Instead, she had taken to working out in her room. Push-ups and pull-ups were fine and all, but it wasn't her.
After running through the maze-like halls of the ship, she finally found her way to the small mail room. Giant grey carts lined the walls, filled to the brim with envelopes and brown paper packages waiting to be sorted. There was a small table along one wall where a burly man sat, looking entirely out of place. His hair was cut short and hard lines covered his face in a permanent frown. Magdalena had always though he looked somewhat like a rhino. His arms were so thick, they were almost like legs.
"Good afternoon, Abe!" she smiled widely at the giant man, clasping her hands in front of her as she stood in front of his desk. He paused in sorting envelopes and looked up at her.
"What do you want?" He asked gruffly, leaning back in his chair which made quiet cracking sounds under his weight.
"Any letters for me?" Magdalena's eyes flicked to the shelf behind him, the spot where he normally kept her letters.
Abe grunted and crossed his arms in front of him, "What's in it for me?"
Magdalena's lips pulled up slightly as she cocked her head to the side, pretending to think, "How about a hug?"
The man stared at her for a moment longer before a wide smile broke out on his face. With a hearty, booming laugh, he stood up, dwarfing her, and opened his arms. Magdalena's smile widened as she carefully placed her things on the floor before walking into his embrace. Abe's massive arms circled her immediately and he lifted her off the floor. Though he could have easily crushed her, he was gentle.
"How're you doing today, princess?" the giant asked, placing her back on the floor.
Magdalena made a sour face at the nickname but grinned, "Wonderful! Annette and I are shipping out to England with Howard in a couple of minutes. We're going to meet up with the US troops as field medics."
Abe chuckled deeply, "You're too eager to fight."
"I just want to do what I can to help." Magdalena shrugged, "But it'll also be nice to see some Americans and talk to someone with a normal accent."
"Watch it." Abe shot her a stern look but a small smirk crept onto his face, making Magdalena giggle.
"You know I love you," she said as he turned toward the shelf behind him, "Got any letters for me?" She grimaced a little at how excited she sounded but continued to stand on her tip toes, trying to see around Abe's massive form.
"Just a few." He said gruffly. Turning to face her, she saw three letters held in his hands.
"One from your mother," he held the letter out to her and she took it immediately, "one from Steve, and one from your mystery man."
Magdalena rolled her eyes as she grabbed the other two letters, "You know his name, Abe, it's on the front of all of the envelopes."
"Well you refuse to tell me anything about him, so he's a mystery." Abe crossed his arms in front of his chest, making him look even more intimidating than he already was.
Magdalena just smiled at him, "You know enough."
Abe sighed, "Fine, keep your secrets. Now give me one more hug before you leave forever."
She felt a pang of sadness at his words and didn't hesitate to embrace him. His arms practically engulfed her. Abe was really the only friend she had on the ship, other than Annette. He had made the last fifteen months bearable, always lending an ear when she needed it or letting her help him sort letters in silence when she just needed someone to be close to.
"I'm going to miss you." Magdalena said, her words slightly muffled by his chest.
"Me too, kiddo," he said, holding her at arms-length, "Promise to write me."
"I promise."
Abe gave a sharp nod before patting her on the shoulder, "Just don't write me as much as Bucky writes you. I won't read them."
"Okay, I won't." Magdalena laughed, picking her things up from the floor where she left them, "I better get going. Howard said he'd leave me if I'm late."
"Get out of here then." Abe shooed her out with his hand before falling back into his chair.
Magdalena stood there for a moment, just looking at him. His frown deepened.
"Thank you for making this place feel a little bit like home," she said quietly, ignoring his discomfort at her gaze, "I'm glad I have a friend like you."
Abe made a gruff sound. He coughed and leaned forward on his desk, "Don't give me that sappy shite." Though he tried to hide it, she could tell he was feeling just as emotional as she was. Even if he didn't say it outright, she knew he cared.
"Love you too, Abe. Stay safe." Magdalena gave him one last smile before heading toward the door.
"Mags," Abe's voice called out to her, making her turn to look at him. He still sat in the same position but his gaze was more serious.
"Tell that boy how you feel, alright? For me. You never know how long you'll have before it's too late. Especially now."
Magdalena felt her cheeks turn pink but she nodded.
"Now get out of here. Don't get yourself killed." Abe cleared his throat before sitting back in his chair, his sign that he was done with the conversation.
"Bye, Abe." Magdalena gave him one last smile before leaving.
She ended up being the first one to show up at Howard's small airplane even though she was five minutes late.
Typical, Magdalena thought as she climbed aboard. She easily tucked her suitcase away in a storage container before making herself comfortable in one of the seats. After waiting a couple of seconds and knowing that Howard and Annette would probably take their sweet time, she took her letters out of her pocket. Tentatively, she held Bucky's in her hands.
Ever since what she ironically called his 'break-up' letter, their contact hadn't been what it used to be. Letters were less personal though they still came every week. It was difficult for her to spill her soul to him now, even if he was still her best friend, and it was clear that he felt the same way. Instead, they had just fallen back on talking about mundane things, more like a play by play of their weeks than actual human conversation. There were too many things left unspoken between them and too many possibilities that neither one of them really knew how to address. She still loved him though and she knew he cared about her. Every letter from him was precious to her, even if they did make her somewhat nervous. She missed her best friend.
Sighing, she opened the letter.
Dear Mags,
I signed up for the army. What a way to start this letter, huh?
Steve and I went to the recruiting center in Manhattan the second it was set up. I got accepted, but Steve was refused, too many health problems. It really upset him, which I understand, but honestly, I'm relieved. He'll be safe here on US soil and he's smart, he'll find another way to help with the war effort. My only worry is that he won't accept it. You know how he is. The last thing we need him to do is go and lie on his recruitment form and get arrested. He could not handle jail.
Everyone keeps asking me if I'm afraid, so I'm sure you want to know too. My answer is no, I'm not. I'm honored to fight for my country and for what's right. It's great to know that I'll be helping so many people. Maybe I'll even get to punch Hitler. (Don't laugh. A guy can dream.) I'm also excited to see another country and be part of something so big. You've been fighting this war for longer than almost anyone. I'm glad that I'll finally be able to help you, to stand along-side you even if it's just in spirit.
I'm supposed to head out to a training camp in Wisconsin in a couple of days so I don't know when I'll be able to write you again. But don't worry, the first chance I get, I'll send you my new address and let you know what's happening. Though, I do know that after training I'll be heading to England.
I hope everything is alright on your end. Steve and I miss you. Be careful.
Love, Bucky
Magdalena held the letter tightly in her hands. She re-read it at least four times before letting her hands drop into her lap.
Bucky was going to war.
Even if he wasn't afraid for himself, she was afraid for him. There were so many things that could go wrong and really nothing she could do about it if it did. Magdalena guessed that was how Bucky felt when she first left…
Despite her fears, she couldn't help but feel the small bit of excitement that was bubbling up in her chest. For the first time in over a year, she and Bucky were going to be in the same country. She knew it was unlikely she would actually see him, but she held onto the small bit of hope the idea gave her. Though one thing was certain. Being with him or not, she knew they would give Hitler a run for his money.