A/N - Sorry this took so long (I know, it's been forever). Honestly, it's been sat on my hard drive for forever so I don't really understand how I didn't publish sooner. I promise you, I'm just going through and editing the next chapter so it shouldn't be too far away.

Present Day

Steve's letter arrived, along with Tony himself, on the doorstep of her flat the day after her drunken non-exploits. She rolled her eyes "I don't have time for this. I have work," she said with annoyance when she saw him. This was the last thing she needed when she was trying to deal to the hangover from hell. Apparently, being the daughter of a goddess did not mean you garnered the ability to not get hungover.

"No you don't. I spoke to your boss, he's very kindly given you a mental health day," Tony stated and she sighed "Plus, if you don't skip work, then I have to explain to two little girls that you don't want to see them." It was such a hideous taunt, a low blow too. He knew she didn't have the heart to let her sister and her niece down.

She was about to sigh in defeat but then she saw the envelope in his hand. "What's that?" she asked. It didn't matter though, she knew what it was – she could make out her name in Steve's curly, loopy handwriting. "I thought I told you to destroy that."

He proffered the envelope towards her, simply saying "You should read it." She snatched it from his hands. Her own shook as she tore the envelope open. She dragged the paper, written on in the gorgeous cursive she'd always admired.

Dear Samantha,

I understand if you're angry and don't want to read this but this, all of it, has to be said and if I can't say it to your face then I figured I should put it in writing.

I love you, in spite of what I said. It was never that you were disloyal because you weren't, you're not. I just said it in a fit of anger. No, darling, you follow your head. That's why you went over the fence and into the British Embassy. It's why you became the Prime Minister's Press Secretary. It's why you did what Ross asked you to do. I get it. You've never really known to do anything else.

I get why you're angry. With me and with Bucky. He took away any real chance you ever had at knowing Howard or Maria. I never knew your grandmother but I get the feeling that you would have liked your grandfather. In one sense, he was very like Tony – everything was a joke, well funny things were, and he had a way with women. Like I said, you would have liked him.

You're probably angry with Bucky because he shot me. don't be. I came out fine at the end of it, didn't I? Even if that was down to you saving my ass. But you should know that, before the Russians and HYDRA got a hold of him, Bucky was a good man, I think he could be again if we just let him.

I don't know whether we can come back from this. You're going to be pissed at me over everything for a while but if you can forgive me, come find me. If you can't, well then, we had a good run of it.

Send my love to Emma,

Yours,

Steve.

She stared at the page a second, her cheeks wet with tears and red with something akin to rage and, maybe, embarrassment. The damned letter had just made her angrier. "You okay kiddo?" her father asked and she looked up, tearfully shaking her head. She was wrapped up in a hug and she felt like a teenager again, sat on her father's couch after the police had left, being told – once again – that she'd be okay. Somehow, she didn't think she would be though.

"D-do you think it's all worth it? All these things we do? Is it really worth all of the mess we leave behind?" she asked "I mean, we risk our lives every day and why? So that less people die? That's great and all but is it really worth the heartache and pain?" She was beginning to think of Steve as incredibly selfish. They needed accountability, contrary to what he may have thought. All of them did. She wanted Bucky to be held responsible. Because of him, she'd never gotten to know her grandparents and there were countless others like her who were without relatives because of James Buchanan 'Bucky' Barnes.

"I don't know," her father responded, an answer that didn't help her one bit.

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They'd found a spot at the zoo where they could eat the Fish and Chips they'd gotten from a nearby stall of sorts. "Ugh what is this crap they've put all over the fries? It looks disgusting," her father complained.

Samantha laughed heartily, rolling her eyes. She'd missed this sort of thing and she hadn't realised it until that very moment. "They're called chips over here Dad and that so-called crap is curry sauce. It's good, you should try it," she said, purposefully dipping her golden yellow chip in the congealed greenish-brown goo before taking a bite. She looked at Sophia and Emma as they fed a few slices of bread to some ducks. She didn't want to tell them that the new research out was saying that giving ducks bread was as bad as handing an overweight kid a Big Mac. It seemed too cruel.

"How's Emma doing at school and things?" she asked, changing the subject.

"She and Sophia have a little competition going on to get to top of their class. They're tied for first," he said "She hasn't really made any friends," he added, concerned, and Samantha was reminded of the mothers the last time she'd picked either of the girls up from school, before she'd been forced into exile. According to those women, young girls ought not to act like they had a modicum of intelligence lest they intimidate one of the boys. Clearly, no one had taught them that school was a place of learning and not just designed to find future husbands.

"What does her teacher say?"

"The typical spiel; kids will be kids, that sort of thing." Samantha nodded along, she knew that one all too well. Audrey had told her that a few too many times when she was a kid. "Look, there was another reason I came to visit," he said and she looked at him, confused.

"Okay, so long as it's not 'I'm dying'," she said it so casually, like it was a joke. He paled, looking at the food gravely and, immediately, she knew "H-how long have you known?" she stuttered, uncertain whether she was angry or just plain upset.

"A few days. The doctors in Brussels did a full scan on me. They think it's the beginnings of liver failure," he explained and she bit her lip, desperately trying to hold back tears.

"B-but you have options right? I-I mean you could get a transplant or-or surely we've got some kind of miracle drug that could help," she almost begged. Steve had just left her in the lurch, she couldn't lose her father too. She needed him far more than she was willing to admit.

"My history means that I'm on the bottom of the transplant list and I wouldn't fit the criteria for any miracle drug that might exist," he responded and she gave up trying not to cry.

"I could be a match. You could have my liver or the 80% of it I could give up without dying," she pleaded, not caring that people were starting to look at her funny.

He shook his head. "I don't want to put you through that. Now, Pepper and I have talked it through and we realised that it would be best if someone else looked after Sophia. I don't want her to see me like that and Pepper's busy with Stark Industries so we thought that the best person was you."

"So you're giving up then?" she almost shrieked. How dare he? Didn't he realise that they, all of them, needed him? "Y-you're just giving up on everything? Y-you have a life; this isn't just about you anymore. You have a daughter, two of us in fact and I'll be damned if you're going to abandon her. You didn't get much of an opportunity to raise me but you have one to raise Sophia," she said, standing up.

"Samantha," he called after her and she shook her head.

"I-I can't even look at you right now," she said turning away.

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She showed up at the door, her heart jumping out of her chest and into her throat. She couldn't seem to rid the tears from her eyes and it was upsetting her even more. She knocked three times on the door. All she could say when he opened it was "I didn't know where else to go."