She looked so small, curled up in the corner of their wagon. So fragile, and vulnerable, and defenceless. But she'd hate it if she knew what Grace was thinking about her; Jessie didn't want anybody's help, no matter how much she needed it. It had always been her way: friendly, approachable, a tremendous capacity to care, but never asking anything for herself, actively shunning any offers of help. But maybe this time her awful family had finally gone too far, and they'd persuade her to stay.

Or maybe not. It had been a struggle to get her back into the wagon after they'd stopped for lunch. She could still barely stand, but she'd tried her best to go back to her family nonetheless. It was a mystery - surely even Jessie's famed loyalty would have worn thin after this latest example of how little they cared about her. But if it hadn't been for Natalie's intervention, she'd have gone back to them already. Natalie had made it abundantly clear that Jessie wasn't going anywhere until she was sure Jessie wasn't going to end up with pneumonia - and she'd stay with them for as long as that took. Jessie had attempted to defy her and had stormed off, but after two steps, she'd wilted like a flower in the sun. If it hadn't been for Natalie's quick reaction, she'd have fallen to the ground. She'd subsequently agreed to stay put, at least for a while. It hadn't even been much of a battle to get her back into the wagon; she'd realised she couldn't walk.

James stayed outside this time, however. Jessie had slept for most of the morning and it had taken all of Grace's ingenuity to stop him from waking her up. He needed the fresh air, and Jessie needed the quiet to rest and recover. She didn't look like she was about to fall asleep again, though. She was sitting up against the side of the wagon, a blanket across her knees and a brush in her hand. Dressed in one of Natalie's fine dresses, she looked different - older, more sophisticated than she did in her usual threadbare dresses. It didn't sit well with the friend she knew. Or the vulnerable way she was sitting, backed into the corner of the wagon.

And she was badly mistreating her hair. Tangled from the rain, and then from sleeping on it, it was knotty, but there was no need to drag the brush through it like that! She'd pull half of it out! Grace moved across the wagon and snatched the brush from Jessie's hand. She then motioned for Jessie to sit in front of her, so she could brush it properly. Jessie frowned, but reluctantly complied.

"You have beautiful hair," Grace admonished her, as she began to gently untangle the knots in it. "You shouldn't treat it like that."

"It gets tangled every day. And I don't have the time or the patience," came Jessie's snappish response.

"Well, you should find the time. Hair like this is worth the effort."

An impatient sigh. "It's not that special. It's long, and snarly, and carroty, and…"

"It is not carroty. It's fiery - completely different." She ran her fingers through the section she'd brushed. "I don't know how it stays so soft. Mine's like straw. Yours and Natalie's," she amended. "Perhaps it's something about red hair." She continued to brush as Jessie squirmed in front of her.

"She has beautiful hair, not me," she muttered.

"I'm not sure I agree," replied Grace serenely. "And I don't think I'm the only one either."

Silence. Clearly not a topic Jessie was willing to talk about. Grace continued to brush in silence, unsettled by her maternal instincts towards the girl in front of her, who might well be years older than her. She'd never asked. But regardless, Jessie was vulnerable, and she needed to be cared for. If there was one thing they all, Rogers and Barnes alike, agreed on, it was that. And what could someone do that was so bad they deserved to be left out in the cold all night to freeze to death? Nothing, that's what, and she'd fight to keep Jessie here, where she was safe.

"Jessie, what did you do that made them do this to you?"

There was a long silence, so long she'd given up expecting an answer, but then Jessie spoke, barely more than a whisper. "I was bad."

"You were not!" She was so angry, she couldn't hide it in her immediate response. "I don't know what you did, but whatever it was, it wasn't bad! You're not bad, Jessie - never!"

"Sometimes I am," was the even tinier reply.

"Jessie…" She stopped brushing and put her arms around her friend. "You're not. And they shouldn't say you are."

"You don't understand." Her reply was blunt, almost cold.

"No, I don't," she replied, ignoring the tone. "And I don't understand why you won't stay here with us. There's plenty of room for you."

"No, there isn't," replied Jessie, sighing in exasperation. "With you and Steve and James in here, there's no room for me."

"We'd make room."

"And with another one on the way, the last thing you need is another mouth to feed."

"We'd make it work," Grace wheedled. "And I'd appreciate your help. Soon, all that kneeling on the ground and cooking and running after James is going to be too much for me. An extra pair of hands would be a godsend."

"Natalie can help you."

"Natalie can't cook." Jessie's shoulders shook, as if she'd laughed. That was promising. "Whereas you most definitely can. I'd far rather eat something you'd produced than her. She tries, but…"

"I'm sure you could tell her what to do, and it would all be just fine."

"It wouldn't, and you know it," Grace retorted. "Some people just don't have the knack."

There was a pause, then, "My family need me."

"Well, they should have thought about that before they tried to freeze you to death, shouldn't they?" She was shaking with anger again. "You don't owe them a thing, and you don't have to stay with them. You can stay here with us - where Steve can keep you safe."

"That's not the point."

"And James would love to have you around," she went on, ignoring Jessie's reply.

"He loves having Natalie around, too."

"Yes, he does," Grace replied carefully. "But you know as well as I do that you're his favourite. You're his Jessie. No-one makes his face light up like you do when he sees you."

"That's not what it looked like last night," she answered softly.

"He's also a three-year-old boy, and they're notoriously fickle," she continued. "He didn't mean what he said. I'm sorry if he upset you."

Her only answer was a shrug. Oh, she made it hard sometimes. "And," Grace went on tentatively, "I'm sorry for how I behaved yesterday, too. It wasn't fair of me." More silence. She sighed. "I know it's much easier to say you should do this, or shouldn't do that, than to actually do it, especially when, well, when you have those feelings." She paused, took a deep breath and rushed on, "And I know that you're trying. And having me constantly nagging at you probably isn't helping. So, I'm sorry, and I'll try not to do it in future."

There was silence for a long moment, then Jessie turned and buried her head in Grace's shoulder. Surprised, she gently put her arms around her, and they stayed like that, not speaking, for quite some time. But eventually, Grace had to speak again. "Please stay with us, Jessie. Let us help you."

But at her words, Jessie suddenly straightened and pulled away from her, shaking her head. "No. I can't. I'm sorry, but I really can't." She reached out to take the brush from Grace, but she pulled it away. Jessie might not be willing to stay with them, but that didn't mean she'd let her mangle her hair in retaliation. Rolling her eyes, Jessie settled herself back down and submitted to having her hair

brushed properly.

They didn't say much more after that - once her hair was brushed, Jessie retired to her corner and dozed, or at least pretended to. Grace left her in peace and caught up on her mending instead. And so time passed until they stopped. As the wagon rolled to a halt, James' voice carried through, insisting he be allowed in to see Jessie, while Natalie told him to wait until it was safe. Not long after, he burst into the wagon, bearing a huge bunch of wildflowers. He thrust them into Jessie's hands before climbing into her lap and throwing his arms around her, nearly crushing all of his carefully gathered gift. For a fraction of a second, Jessie, overwhelmed by the attention, seemed to be on the verge of tears. But the moment passed, and in a sudden burst of activity, she swept James into a hug and carried him out of the wagon. Grace followed after her quickly, in case Jessie stumbled – she hadn't been very steady on her feet before.

She was more stable now, but still in no fit state to do much more than sit by a fire and be looked after. But she clearly had other plans - as soon as she was out of the wagon, she handed James off to Bucky and moved past him. Bucky took a second to settle James in his arms, before he followed Jessie, asking where she was going, laying a gentle hand on her arm.

She turned to him and answered, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world, "I'm going back to my wagon to make dinner."

His hand tightened around her wrist. She tried to pull away from him, but when he didn't let go, she stopped and turned back to him, mutiny in her eyes. "You're not. You're staying here, and having dinner with us," he replied softly.

"Someone has to make their dinner - what are they supposed to do, starve?" she replied impatiently. Bucky's answering shrug and raised eyebrows spoke far more eloquently than any words could have - he didn't care. "I can't let them go without any dinner!" There was genuine fear in her voice - fear that if they missed their meal, she'd be the one to suffer.

"It wouldn't do them any harm for once," was Bucky's dark response. "Let them know what it feels like."

"Let me go!" was Jessie's only response to that perfectly reasonable comment. "I have to go!"

"What's going on?" Natalie suddenly appeared in the conversation. She reached a hand out to Jessie, still held fast, although surprisingly gently, by Bucky, and laid it against her forehead. Jessie flinched away, but Natalie wasn't deterred. She frowned but said nothing, looking expectantly between the two of them, waiting for an answer.

It was Bucky who eventually replied. "Jessie wants to go back to her wagon, so she can cook dinner and be run off her feet when she's barely able to stand upright." His tone was as agitated as Jessie's expression - the depth of his caring all too obvious.

"That's ridiculous," Natalie replied. "You're not going anywhere tonight, not until I'm sure you're not going to be ill."

"I have to," was Jessie's emphatic reply.

"It was only this morning you were found practically frozen to death. You're not recovered from it yet, and if you go back there tonight, they won't let you recover. I don't want to be woken up again in a couple of days' time by my husband with you in his arms, at death's door."

"Who will make their dinner then?" Jessie's tone was flat as she spoke, no obvious sign that her resolve was faltering.

"I'm sure they can fend for themselves for one night," replied Natalie, breezily. "And if they can't, they should have thought of that before they left their cook outside all night to freeze to death, shouldn't they?"

"You don't understand," Jessie tried again, her tone pleading.

"I'm not interested in your family's welfare, Jessie. Just yours." Natalie's tone brooked no argument, and Jessie knew it. Her shoulders slumped in defeat, and she stared at the ground miserably, trembling.

Natalie and Bucky were totally in the right - Jessie's family should be left their own devices this evening. But if there was even the chance they'd take it out on Jessie… Grace sighed. It went against all her instincts to help those awful people, but she'd do it for Jessie.

"It's alright, Jessie," she said softly. "I'll make them something, and Steve can take it over to them."

Relief, gratitude, disgust and guilt flitted one after the other across Jessie's face. "You shouldn't have to," she protested weakly.

"No, I shouldn't," Grace replied, "but it's what friends do." And before Jessie could say another word, she sailed off towards the cook fire. Once there, she ascertained that Jessie had allowed Bucky to sit her down by the fire. She let out a breath she hadn't realised she'd been holding.

Natalie came to stand beside her, following her gaze. "That was kind of you," she said.

She shrugged. "It's certainly not out of any concern for them," she replied. "But Jessie looked so scared - I didn't want them to have an excuse to take anything else out on her."

Natalie's expression was unfathomable, but then she smiled. "You're a very good friend to her," she said.

Grace squirmed - she'd been anything but recently. "I try," she replied. "It's not like she has many."

"No," Natalie replied thoughtfully. "And I think she needs all the friends she can get."

Jessie managed most of her dinner, although she had to be coaxed to eat more than a few spoonfuls by Bucky. For a man who always came across as so dark and brooding, like he was full of barely-contained violence, his gentleness with Jessie was remarkable. He was already in love with her - as he persuaded Jessie to keep having one more spoonful with infinite patience, Grace hurt for the tragedy unfolding in front of her. Because no matter how genuine his feelings for Jessie, and Jessie's feelings for him, and no matter how much Natalie seemed to condone it, it couldn't be. It couldn't work. It could only end with everyone involved getting hurt. But she kept silent. He was making sure Jessie ate properly; she wouldn't get in the way of that.

They also won the battle to make Jessie stay the night with ease. Once she'd eaten her dinner, and still suffering from not having slept the night before, she nodded off against Bucky's shoulder. He shifted, putting his arm around her shoulders to support her, studiously refusing to meet Grace's eyes. Just this once, she didn't mind - if Jessie was asleep, she couldn't argue about staying with them. When it was time to turn in for the night, Steve gently took Jessie from Bucky and carried her into their wagon, laying her down gently beside James. He turned in his sleep and burrowed into her arms, and she cuddled him closer in return. The two of them looked so peaceful and safe - how long had it been since Jessie had last looked that way?