Once again, thanks Ink Outside the Linesfor sliding over a plot bunny that I couldn't ignore. This oneshot actually got a bit long bc I really wanted to add a few bits and had to, you know, build up to them.
This is a noncanon interaction that supposed to have happened during Universal Displacement. :)
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Sutton felt extremely self conscious as she hurried down dirty city streets. Black, antique cars lined the road and brick buildings blocked her in on both sides. The women walking around were all smartly dressed. Skirts or dresses were the norm. Coiffed hair that was neatly pinned and heels were worn by all. The men wore slacks with button up shirts and a jacket. Hats were much more abundant than she'd noticed before.
Sutton was wearing tweed pants and a too large wrap shirt in an eye-popping forest green. Her hair. She didn't even want to think of what her hair looked like at this point. Despite the pointed looks and aghast glances, she was at least comforted by the fact that it seemed there were much more women out on the street than men.
Whatever earth she was on now, she guessed it was somewhere in the 1930s or 1940s.
She paused at a newspaper stand to glance at the headline. To figure out just where and when she was.
It was a New York paper. Brooklyn, more specifically, if The Brooklyn Daily Eagle printed on top was to be trusted. It was also the 12th of May, 1943.
Sutton huffed and moved away from the stand before the seller could yell at her.
Wonderful.
She'd just popped into some earth right in the throes of World War II.
Just how many fandoms included WWII? Sutton froze, her leather boots catching on the sidewalk.
Was this a fandom?
What if she had found her way back home? Just...just in a terribly wrong time? Timelines had never lined up well, who was to say she couldn't accidentally go backwards?
"Please no," she murmured under her breath. "Please don't let me be on my earth."
Instead of panicking she pushed herself to continue on. She'd done this before. Started out with nothing and somehow managed. Survived. But there'd been some measure of luck to it all before. The fact that she was in other worlds with, essentially, main characters to run into probably played a big part. If she were back on plain old earth, she'd have nothing. She knew no one. Not even past family to integrate in with that she remembered learning about. At least definitely not in Brooklyn.
The most logical thing that she could probably do would be to head to a police station and ask about local shelters. Brooklyn had some sort of reputation, she remembered that, and she didn't want to be caught outside at night whatever it was.
A couple of guys on a street corner whistled at her and Sutton picked up her pace without looking back.
With other women in skirts walking around, she didn't think she was on the worst side of town, but she honestly didn't know. She'd have to ask for directions eventually. She had no idea if she was even heading in the direction of a police station.
It was America, but everything felt so foreign.
She hopped over a puddle and eased into a mild jog.
Buildings grew a bit seedier, more run down, the further she ran, and Sutton slowed her pace. Finally stopped. Perhaps it would be a better idea for her to turn back. At least the buildings where she'd started looked better kept.
She turned around and was heading back when she heard some scuffling and grunting. There was a bang and a crash and Sutton paused at the end of a building, knowing something was going down around the corner. She dug her fingernails into her palm and bit her lip as she deliberated. She pursed her lips and expelled some air, then darted around the building as silently as she could. Her leather boots made it easy.
A large guy in a canvas coat and newsboy hat threw a punch. Sutton just saw the twiggy figure of some young kid go flying down the alley way, scrambling to stand before the guy could descend on him again. Her heart raced.
"You should think before ya give lip," the bigger guy said. Sutton could barely see the kid raise his fists from behind the other guy. Her eyes darted around the back alley until they landed on a group of tin trash cans.
She wasn't supposed to be here, wherever she was. She shouldn't intervene.
But when had that ever stopped her before?
Sutton snatched up one of the trash can lids and rushed forward. The bigger guy was raising his fist again and she shouted.
"Hey!"
He turned to look and Sutton swung for all she was worth. The metal caught him completely on the side of the face and he stumbled to the side from the blow. Sutton hit him again as he fell.
Reaching out blindly, she grabbed the kid's thin arm and tugged him forward.
"Come on," she said. "Before he gets up!"
The kid stumbled behind her as she dragged him down the street and around a few corners before she stopped, panting, in a different alleyway. She let go of his arm and peered back down the street, but didn't see anyone running after them. Sutton turned back with a smile.
"I think we lost-"
It wasn't a kid. It was a grown man, just the same height that she was. A skinny, blond, cut up young man who was glaring at her. Sutton stopped breathing.
Steve Rogers.
"I had it under control," he said sharply. He smoothed back his hair and straightened his jacket and Sutton gaped.
"Oh no," she mumbled. Steve's gaze darted over her form, not gawking but evaluating, and he straightened his stance as best he could.
"I did. No need for a dame like yourself to get involved in a scrape."
He wiped some blood off his lip and Sutton backed away as her hand flew up to press against her forehead. This-this was worse than she imagined. How? How had she managed to jump back into the Marvel universe, but at such an incredibly wrong time.
"Sorry," she said absentmindedly. She took another step back and Steve's frustrated face melted into one of confusion.
What-what was she going to do? It had been her entire goal to get back here. But it was so wrong. Like when you're attempting to solve a rubix cube and you match all the colors up except that one in the bottom corner. And you know if you try to keep going you'll make it all messed up and never get it right.
If she left again, she'd never jump back here on her own.
"Hey, you ok?"
Sutton's eyes shifted to meet his and it was weird. She didn't have to look up at him. He looked more tense than in the future. More high strung. Angry, almost, as if he had to fight to exist every second. Sutton swallowed.
"I'm fine," she said. "I-uh, I should-should go."
To mess up Steve Roger's past, or future, or whatever, would be unforgivable. And, and he had to go through everything coming. It made him who he was. It didn't mean she wanted a front row seat to it.
He looked at her with absolutely no recognition in his eyes and it affected her more than she thought it should.
"Wait."
Steve caught her arm and she turned to watch as he shuffled awkwardly.
"Sorry," he said. "You did a good thing. Thank you." Sutton gave him a strained smile.
"Yeah, no problem."
Oh crap. Would he recognize her now? When they showed up in front of her car in her world? Would he be all, "what is that weird girl who interrupted my fight in Brooklyn doing here in the present? And in an alternate universe? How odd?"
But he hadn't said anything.
Time travel was weird. Sutton didn't like it.
"Well, good luck in your next fight," she said with a clipped wave. Steve's face twisted in further confusion as she attempted to leave, and she silently chided herself on her choice of words.
Good luck? Really?
There was almost a physical pain to leaving Steve behind as if she didn't know him. Because he was a friend and it felt wrong. And in her present day he was a sort of stable beacon for her. Present day Steve at least tolerated her. She'd managed to start off on the wrong foot with this Steve. Saving him from a beating, no less.
It was getting late as Sutton started to trot back down the sidewalk. She crossed her arms and made herself small as she tried to remember which direction she'd come from.
"Dang it." She hissed under her breath. "Now how am I supposed to-"
"Wait!"
She twisted to look over her shoulder to see Steve rushing after her. She stopped and waited, feeling uneasy about...well about just everything.
"Dames shouldn't walk these streets alone. And, well, pardon me, but you're sure to draw attention."
Sutton instinctively looked down at her own clothes.
"Right," she said. "Well, I'd hate to be an inconvenience. I'm fine."
Steve furrowed his brow.
"It's the least I can do."
He was going to push the gentleman thing. He was going to make her say it. Once he got that look on his face, there was little one could do to make him change his mind. He was so stubborn. Sutton closed her eyes and let out a breath.
"Actually, I'm trying to, uh, find a-" She rubbed at her face and looked away. "Trying to find a women's shelter or something? Where they don't charge. Do you… know where one is?'
Steve was quiet.
"Women's shelter?"
Sutton waved her hands as she spoke.
"Or a... homeless shelter, or whatever. I'm, uh, not too picky at this point. It's just I, uh, got, you know, whistled at already today. And, you know, I'd rather not risk it in the dark."
His gaze darted over her again as if he were reassessing her with the new information. Sutton knew she was a sight, but she didn't want him to think that.
"I… don't think we have anything like that around here," Steve said slowly. Sutton's face fell.
"Oh."
She rubbed at her arm and glanced warily down the street. Perhaps she could sleep near a police station? Would that be safer? Her eyes darted over Steve briefly and she flashed him a show of teeth.
"Well, thanks for the heads up." Sutton turned to leave and Steve spoke up again.
"You can't just stay out here alone. It isn't safe."
Sutton already felt thoroughly humbled with having to admit she was looking for a free shelter. To admit she had no one, no friends, to support her felt a bit redundant. Instead she shrugged and smiled thinly.
"I'll figure something out," she said. Steve's brow furrowed again. She could see him thinking, knew him well enough now that she knew that he was considering making an offer but felt uncomfortable about it. She attempted to cut him off and run, but he beat her to it before she could work up the nerve.
"I know it ain't proper, and you don't know me, but if you want, I could give you a place to sleep for the night. It's not fancy, but it's safer than being out alone." She grimaced and Steve interpreted the expression wrong.
"I swear I'm not a creep. And besides, dames, ah, usually ain't too intimidated by me."
Sutton couldn't help the flicker of a smile that attempted curl up her face. He wasn't used to talking to girls, that was obvious. She let out a breathy laugh and looked at him.
"Are you kidding? You're twice as intimidating. A guy willing to fight another man twice his size and still be humble enough to apologize to a stranger is someone to be reckoned with."
Steve flushed red and Sutton gnawed on her lower lip as she considered his offer.
She knew Steve. The safest place she could be was in his company. She'd be able to sleep without worrying that he'd try anything in the middle of the night. But she also knew herself. Sometimes she forgot herself, her situation. She didn't want to interfere with whatever he was supposed to be doing during this time.
But it was cold. And getting dark. And the thought of declining his offer and walking off down an unfamiliar street shot a pang of icy pain through her feet.
"Maybe...maybe just one night," she said. "But I'd take the couch, or floor, or whatever."
Steve shook his head.
"I couldn't do that." Sutton rolled her eyes.
"I've slept on worse."
He frowned again at that, but didn't ask.
"Name 's Steve, by the way." He held out his hand and she shook it, thrown back by how small his fingers were. How cold his hand was.
"I'm...Sutton."
For a moment, she'd debated lying, but ultimately didn't see the point. Odds were, she'd forget what name she gave him or not respond at all. And if he remembered her in the future, he'd just learn she was lying anyway. Gesturing with his head he turned in the opposite direction she'd been heading and pressed his lips together briefly.
"My place is this way, then."
Sutton followed him, feeling like she was doing something forbidden. Like she was spying on him, somehow. Seeing things that weren't her business to see. It felt like not telling him that she knew him already was a violation of privacy. But at the moment it couldn't be helped. He most likely wouldn't believe her regardless.
Steve's apartment wasn't on that nice side of town where she'd originally found herself. They slipped into what looked like a factory district, with rising smoke and dirty streets. Sutton kept close to Steve despite the fact that they were currently the same height and she probably weighed more than he did. It was just reflex.
Eventually they made their way up a staircase and Steve dug in his pocket for a key.
"This is me," he said, even though they were plainly standing in front of a door.
His apartment was small, dark, and minimal; clearly a bachelor pad. A few crates served as storage and seating, a ratty sofa sat against a bare wall, and there weren't many knickknacks laying around to glean anything from. Sutton's heart constricted.
"Cozy," she said.
"It keeps the rain off."
He closed and locked the door behind them and Sutton moved further into the small space without paying mind to it. There were actually a couple of photographs out. A picture of a couple that looked like his parents and one that looked like him and maybe Bucky when they were young.
"There's a shower, if you want to use it," Steve spoke up. "There's a, uh, brush on the sink." Sutton pushed some tangled curls back and nodded.
"Thank you. I- Would you, um, have something I could change into? Maybe?"
Steve's eyes widened briefly as if that idea hadn't even occurred to him, and he shuffled back and forth before moving down a short hall.
"Right. Of course."
He brought back a vintage button up shirt and matching pants pajama set. Or, at least it was vintage to Sutton. It had thin blue pinstripes and was made from a cotton. Sutton rubbed the fabric between her fingers and couldn't stop her face from heating up as she hesitated in the doorway to the bathroom.
"They're clean," said Steve. She wasn't about to tell him she was more flustered by the fact that she was about to put on Steve Rogers' pajamas.
"Thank you," she said again. "Promise I won't use up all the hot water."
"You think there's hot water?"
Sutton blinked but quickly caught the wry twist of his lips. Her shoulders loosened a bit and she laughed.
"Well, one more cold shower won't kill me."
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It was a lukewarm shower, but she was clean and she was thrilled with just that. There was no hair dryer, so she twisted her hair up in a bun on top of her head and tried to tuck in the ends. The pajamas actually fit. She didn't know what to think about that.
Sutton crept out of the bathroom, feeling self conscious once more, and shivered against the cool draft that drifted through the apartment. There were noises coming from the kitchen and she shuffled in that direction. She could smell fish and something sort of starchy.
Steve stood at his small stove and was frying up fillets and what looked like lima beans. Sutton made a face at the food. She knew she should be grateful to eat at all, but it looked to be a serious downgrade. History hadn't been her top subject in school, though she knew the sweeping basics. Just, she didn't remember them going over food. It looked so-
Steve shifted and she smoothed her face out, opting for a curious head-tilt. He turned to look over his shoulder and quickly looked away from her again. Sutton ran her hands over the pajama top to make sure she was still decent.
She was.
"Hope you like fish," he said. "There isn't a lot to pick from at the moment."
Sutton eased over to one of the rickety chairs at a small table and sat.
"Oh, right," she said. "The rationing thing. No, fish is fine. Smells….good."
Steve gave her a mildly perplexed look and finished the fish, fixing their plates and setting one in front of her along with a glass of water. Sutton hoped the water was clean.
She thanked him and they both sat quietly to eat, nibbling at their food in silence. Sutton attempted to pick bones out of her teeth with as much grace as she could. There was a faint butter flavor to the beans, but she still tried to not breathe as she ate them. What she wouldn't give for a few spices.
"So, where are you from?"
She looked up from scraping the leftover bones in the trash and stammered.
"Huh?"
"You're obviously not from Brooklyn."
"Oh, right. No accent, huh? Well, I'm from the West coast originally. Washington state."
Steve took her plate from her and began washing them.
"Originally?"
Sutton hesitated, unsure how much it was safe to share.
"I've been moving around a lot lately. Hoping that won't be the case for too much longer."
"You don't have family to go back to?"
"Not- no," she said quietly. "Not now."
She thought of her mom, step-dad, and Tyrese; lost forever. Of the team, so close now and yet so far away, and hoped they weren't lost now too.
"I think I have clean sheets," Steve said as she sniffed. Sutton rubbed a knuckle over her cheekbone and blinked, looking overly interested in what he was saying.
"I'm really fine with the couch."
"Naw," Steve insisted. "Besides, the room has a door, and I'm sure you'll feel more comfortable with that."
He set up the bed and awkwardly wished her goodnight as she eased the door closed. Sutton thanked him again, the knowledge that she would've been on the street without him still making her feel queasy.
Despite feeling safe around Steve, she wasn't able to fall asleep right away. Questions about what she'd do in the morning, how she'd survive the nights after this until she left, ringing in her head. How was she going to eat in a country that was already carefully rationing for the people who were actually supposed to be here? A country that was still climbing out of the devastating crater that had been the Great Depression?
Yes, she'd already done this a couple times. Yes she'd barely made it work so far. But this was different. This had been the world she was trying to get back to. This was a world she really couldn't mess up and she knew Steve too intimately. Personal stories and tics and mannerisms. Which wasn't because she watched him so closely, obviously, they just managed to hang out once in awhile. She remembered things sometimes.
Sutton forced herself to take a deep breath, hold it, and then let it slowly out. Nothing would come of her worrying. Tomorrow would still come and the problems would still be there.
No use in fretting about it now. Not while she had a bed for once. And a desperate need for some quality shuteye.
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There was a bang and Sutton shot up straight out of sleep, her hand reaching for a knife that wasn't there. There was a surprised yell from another room, and she jumped from the bed, stumbling over her own feet, and burst through the door. She stood in the hall, hand poised as if she actually was holding a dagger, and she panted as her eyes darted around. Searched for the threat.
"-breakfast…."
A dark haired man in suspenders was staring at her with wide eyes and Sutton blinked. Squinted.
"Bucky?" she whispered under her breath. Looking around, she noted the apartment; remembered where she was. Sutton lowered her arm and let out a breath. Her hair had fallen from its knot and now was wild in messy curls hanging around her face. She pushed her hair back and stood up straighter. Bucky, Bucky Barnes, shifted his gaze back over to a frazzled Steve and whistled.
"Woah-ho, Stevie," he said. Steve growled.
"It ain't like that. She needed a place to stay for the night."
Sutton moved down the hall to join them in the living room and rubbed at her temples.
"You scared the crap out of me," she complained. "Do you usually throw open doors this early in the morning? Or is today just special?"
Bucky's face flickered in astonished amusement and a smile edged up his face.
"Only when I bring this punk some grub," he said.
"I told you, I'm fine." Steve's tone was irritated and she rolled her eyes.
"Don't be so proud, Steve. You never turn down free food." Sutton turned, twisting her hair back up on top of her head, and spied a few pencils on one of the crates next to a worn looking notebook. She borrowed one of the pencils to stab through the knot of hair and keep it in place.
"Alright," she said, rolling up the pajama sleeves. "What did you bring. Please tell me there's some coffee." Bucky blinked.
"I managed some sausage and eggs," he said. "There's a little coffee in there too, doll."
Sutton sighed in relief.
"Awesome. I can actually make a decent omelette, or scrambled eggs, if you don't mind. It's about all I can offer to pay you back," she said to Steve. Steve just nodded dumbly and Bucky handed over the paper bag of goods he'd brought. Sutton accepted them with a nod and set to work in the kitchen.
"You just met her last night," asked Bucky from the other room.
"She found me. Pulled me away from, ah, a disagreement." Bucky groaned.
"I don't check on you one night."
"I don't need supervision, Buck."
"Well you aren't exactly convincing."
Sutton bit her lip as she cracked the eggs in a bowl and found a heavy, cast iron pan for the sausage. She did want to thank Steve, somehow, but she wouldn't ever admit one of her main motivations was to get herself out of the room and make sure she didn't say something stupid.
And that fish had been undercooked. She didn't want Steve to get ahold of the sausage.
There was a bit of salt in one of the cupboards and not much else. Sutton grimaced again. Whether this was due to the rationing or Steve's own poor grocery shopping habits, she didn't know. She salted the eggs a little and made sure a sausage link was cooked all the way through before plating all the food. Bucky had fixed the coffee while she cooked and they all sat back down at Steve's banged up table to eat.
"Not bad," said Bucky after a few bites. Sutton shrugged as she sat with her feet crossed under her on the chair and sipped at the bitter coffee. They didn't have creamer.
"There's not a lot to work with, to be fair," she said. "Usually I like a few more flavors. A nice omelette with cheese, spinach, and mushrooms? A side of buttered sourdough? Now that's a breakfast." She snapped her head up in sudden realization. "But thank you for what you brought! I know with, uh, the war things are tough right now. For everyone! I sure do miss...cake. Am I right?"
Steve looked confused and Bucky laughed.
"You're just helping her," he asked. Steve looked at him drolly and nodded. Bucky grinned. "Well, in that case; speaking of cake. Hey sugar, you rationed?"
Sutton blinked. Opened her mouth and closed it and fumbled.
"Um. What?"
"Knock it off, Buck."
Bucky waved him off and leaned over the table to offer a hand.
"I'm James, by the way. Don't think we made proper introductions." Sutton hesitated, still trying to figure out what he'd asked her, but slipped her hand into his and shook it.
"Sutton," she said.
"Beautiful name for a beautiful dame."
Steve hunched over his plate with a glower and Sutton tilted her head to the side.
"Is this the part where I swoon? Cool your jets and just eat."
A quirking smirk flashed across Steve's face as he picked at his eggs, and Bucky guffawed.
"Cool my jets," he questioned. "What's that supposed to mean?" She looked up from her cup of coffee, trying to convince herself to take another sip of the gritty drink.
"You know. Chill. Calm down. Oh- wait. Is that not a saying here?"
Bucky shook his head.
"That's the first time I've heard it. Funny though. Cool your jets."
Sutton winced and took a large gulp from her mug.
"Dang it," she whispered. She was going to have to watch herself more closely. Steve took another bite of his eggs and Sutton wondered yet again at the vast differences between him now and in the future. He was picking at his food, either out of nervousness or something else, when the Steve she knew wouldn't hesitate to eat. Heck, in the future he ate twice as many eggs in a shorter amount of time. More than once she'd jealousy coveted his metabolism.
Yet despite the differences, it was plain he was still Steve. So caring, so stubborn. The serum really did only amplify what was already there.
Steve looked up at her and Sutton took another swallow of the coffee, finishing it off and almost choking on some grounds, as she stood to take her plate to the sink. She rinsed it off and then reached down automatically, but her hand met only cupboard. She stopped and backed up, looking for the dishwasher, but found nothing.
"Oh, dang, right," she muttered. She grabbed the rag that was already in the sink and quickly washed her plate.
"Where are you planning on going, if you don't mind me asking." Steve's voice rose up from the table. Sutton grimaced, smoothed it over, and swiveled as she leaned back against the sink.
"Hmm? Oh. You know." She waved her hand flippantly. "Um...north."
Both Bucky and Steve frowned.
"North," Steve questioned.
"You sound so confident," said Bucky.
"North," Sutton said with firmness. "There's some, um, relatives up there I'll stay with."
"But you said you didn't have any family."
Sutton froze, her hands gripping the countertop behind her. She flashed a nervous smile at Steve and swallowed.
"Right. Yes. Well, what I meant was no immediate family. I-I totally have a place to go, so no need to worry about me. Actually, it'd probably be best to forget this whole thing ever happened in the first place."
"Why?"
"You runnin' from someone, doll," asked Bucky.
Drat it. She'd been doing so well the previous night too! The temperature was already rising in her face and her tongue was getting tense. The more flustered she got, the deeper the hole she dug for herself and it was so frustrating because she knew that but she couldn't stop herself.
"I'm fine," she insisted. "Yesterday just… caught me off guard. It's daylight now, though and I am A-Okay!" She gave them a thumbs up. "I should get going, actually! No use wasting the day."
"Maybe it isn't my place," said Steve. "But I think you're lying. How'd you even manage to get to Brooklyn?"
"Uh...car," she managed to squeak out. "You know, I should go change back into my clothes."
She dashed out of the kitchen and back into Steve's bedroom, shutting the door behind her. Letting out a breath, she knocked her head back against the door and groaned.
Great. Now he was definitely going to remember her in the future.
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She was actually doing pretty well there for a bit! Being extra cautious and everything!
Also, just in case someone didn't know, "Hey sugar, you rationed?" was basically asking a girl if she was in a relationship/dating someone. :P