So, everyone's home now and in one piece (if only barely). Time for a nice, restful recovery chapter and some fluff.

Steve and the rest of the Howling Commandos had been in the infirmary for nearly a day before any of them woke up. Peggy had been worried when they missed their check in, and had helped Phillips organize a search and rescue when they didn't come back at all. When nothing turned up in Zurich, they regrouped and tried to figure out how to widen their search. Everyone had been greatly surprised by Ethan Green bursting into the middle of their meeting, and after Phillips had stopped yelling at him about how this was all classified, he'd told them he'd been talking to Steve, and then things got very busy.

The team had all been treated by the time Peggy had gotten to the infirmary, and though they were going to be under quarantine for a few more days until they healed, she'd been granted a protective charm to come in and check up on them. She'd left to oversee the group gathering intel from Gray's lab (as well as the team's gear), and to find Esther and Rebecca and give them an update on their brothers. But she'd spent most of her time here, going through intelligence and watching over her boys.

If there was one good thing about this whole fiasco, it was that she definitely had the proof she needed to show Phillips the spy was real. There on top of the pile in her lap was a slim folder pulled from the lab containing background information on each member of the team, photographs, where the location of the safehouse in Zurich was and details on its security, and when the boys would be there. The team had been ambushed, clear as day, and now she had proof that someone on the inside was feeding Hydra. She was glad she'd demanded all information brought out of Gray's lab be given to her and her alone. Everything that wasn't currently in the pile in her lap was locked up, and no one but her should know what was in it. She didn't want to tip off the spy that they were closer to finding them.

She was having trouble concentrating, though. Her gaze kept drifting up and down the row of beds she was sat in the middle of. They still didn't know the full story of what had happened, only what Steve had relayed to Ethan before passing out. (Ethan's exposure to the disease had been minimal, and he had been treated before feeling any symptoms and deemed safe to leave quarantine after six hours.) She didn't know how Gray had caught them all, or what he'd done besides exposing them all to the disease, or why he'd done it at all (though she imagined it had something to do with Phillips' relocation op). She didn't know how close they'd come to not surviving it.

Steve coughed and shifted uneasily on the bed beside her chair, muttering something under his breath. Peggy set down her stack of papers and leaned over, stroking the side of his head and brushing back hair damp with sweat and he quieted, sleeping on. She'd seen Steve sick before—for the first five years she'd known him, he'd spent almost as much time in the infirmary as out. But there was something more…she didn't want to say pathetic, that wasn't right, but there was something that just made it seem worse now. Perhaps it was because he wasn't supposed to get sick anymore. Perhaps it was that he was so big and strong, it felt like whatever could reduce him to this state had to be more dangerous than it would have before. In any case, it was dreadful sitting here and seeing him like this. But she hated to leave him alone.

Some hours later, he started shifting again, and she held her breath as he slowly came awake. "Steve?" she asked.

He rolled his head to look at her, and his eyes were sick and weary and a little lost, and he stared at her for a moment before he seemed to realize that he was actually awake. "Hi, Peggy," he rasped.

"Would you like some water?" she asked, turning and filling a glass that sat on the bedside table. He nodded, and she leaned in with the glass, lifting his head with one hand and helping him drink.

"Thanks," he said when she was done, and he sounded a little bit better. His eyes roamed around the room before landing on her again. "Are we home?" he asked.

She nodded and smiled. "You are."

He nodded, and then his eyebrows furrowed in concern and his breathing quickened. "Everyone? Where's—" He struggled to sit up and his breathing was becoming more agitated and pained-sounding. "Bucky. Bucky was real bad, is he—"

"He's over there," Peggy said, not needing any effort at all to push him back down on the pillow and hold him there. She pointed to the next bed over and Steve's eyes followed her hand. To her dismay, Steve did not look reassured.

"He looks so bad," he said, his voice cracking.

"I know," she said, resting a hand on the side of his face. Bucky, for whatever reason, had been far sicker than the rest of them when they arrived. He'd gotten treatment, and after a couple of nerve-wracking hours, Nurse Rains had been able to assure her that he would make a full recovery, but he did look awful at the moment. His skin was still a worrying shade of pale bordering on grey, and his breathing had been so erratic that he'd been given an oxygen mask to help regulate it. "But he's going to be alright," she told Steve. "It's just going to take a bit longer for him to get back on his feet than it will for you, but he's going to be fine. I promise."

Steve nodded, though he still looked worried. "What about Dugan? He didn't wake up for a really long time. And Jacques was—"

"Everyone's here, Steve," she told him. "And they're all going to be okay." She reached down and squeezed his hand. "You got them back in time."

"They're all gonna be okay?" he asked, and she could see he was starting to fade again.

"They're all going to be okay," she repeated.

"Ethan too?"

"Ethan too," she said. She brushed his hair away from his face. "You did well, Steve. You don't need to worry."

He nodded, relaxing back into the mattress. "S'good. I was worried we weren't gonna…"

"I know," she said. She leaned down and kissed his forehead softly. "But everyone's going to pull through. It's all alright now."

He smiled sleepily. "You're not gonna get sick, kissin' me like that, are you? I'm real contagious."

"Yes, you are," she agreed. "Which is why you're inside the quarantine shield," she told him, nodding at the golden shimmer that stretched along the row of beds. "But I've got a protective charm." She held up the little brass charm on a string around her neck. "I'm alright."

Steve nodded. "S'what I thought that was. S'good." His eyes were drooping shut but they fluttered open with what looked like some effort. "Zat mean you can kiss me again?"

She laughed and leaned in again, kissing him warmly on the cheek this time. "Yes, it does." She straightened up, her hand resuming its earlier stroking of his hair. "Get some rest."

"Mm," he hummed, eyes already closed.

After he'd fallen back asleep, Peggy stood up and stretched all the kinks out of her back. With as often as they ended up here, they should really invest in some more comfortable chairs. She smiled to herself. Phillips probably wouldn't approve the budget for that. She walked up and down the row of beds, checking in on each of the boys. So far, Steve was the only one to have woken up, but that was hardly surprising. He should be healing faster than the others due to the protective nature of the serum. Even so, she'd been initially concerned when they'd all remained unconscious for so long. She'd never seen anyone affected by Hydra's strain of the disease before, but she'd heard bits and pieces by now from Steve about how his mum had died. Mrs. Rogers had been in and out of consciousness, and when Peggy voiced her concern to Nurse Rains, Rains had pointed out that Mrs. Rogers had been receiving treatment throughout the course of her illness. Even if it hadn't worked, it had alleviated her symptoms somewhat. Steve and the others had received no such treatment until arriving here. Though it made her even more angry with Gray, that did make Peggy worry less.

She continued on with sorting through the intel from the lab, getting up once or twice to switch it out with new stacks of paper from the locked compartment under her desk. Aside from the revelation that Gray had been waiting for the team, there wasn't much of interest there. Some scientific data that Howard would appreciate a look at, some correspondence that didn't appear to have much strategic value, a few reports that seemed to be from Hydra missions that had already happened—those would probably bear closer reading over later, but weren't exactly urgent. Nothing on where Gray had gotten his information on the team or who he communicated with. Either their spy was very careful, or Gray was—the little building with the lab where the team had been held was in Bern, and was obviously not where Gray lived. They didn't know where that was, but he probably kept most of his valuable intel there instead of traveling with it.

Steve woke up again a few hours later, and seemed a lot more coherent this time, though he was still shaky when he tried to sit up on his own. Once he was up, he looked down at his bandaged right arm in confusion. "Is my…" His twisted his wrist experimentally and winced. "Is my wrist broken? When did that happen?"

"When you got back," Peggy told him. She hadn't been there for this part, but she'd heard about it. "You passed out after you landed, and, well, you're quite large now, you know, and no one was able to catch you."

He blinked, absorbing that. "It's broken because I fell down?"

"Yeah."

He huffed a laugh, sounding a little embarrassed. "Okay."

"Nurse Rains says she can't fix it until all the potions and things are out of your system. That's why it's still broken," she explained.

"Okay," he said again. "Did we find anything good at Gray's place?"

Peggy told him in brief what they had found. She didn't want to overwhelm him just yet, and she didn't press for any details of what had happened on the mission either—there would be time enough for that when he was well. He told her a few things, though, and she did make sure to give him everything she'd discovered about the spy.

"That makes sense," he agreed when she told him about the file on who they all were and where they were going to be. "He did seem to know a lot about us." Something hard crossed his face, and Peggy wondered what Gray had said. "Does Phillips know?"

"I passed it on to him," Peggy replied. "We're trying to keep it quiet. Obviously the spy is someone with higher clearance, but that's still a fair number of people. We're keeping all the intel that came back very close—hopefully we won't tip whoever it is off."

"Does it narrow it down for you at all?" he wondered.

"Quite a bit, actually." While the details of the mission—like the location of the warehouse and the destination of the refugees—had been highly classified, the existence of the mission and less important facts had been a little better known. Still, the whole thing had been classified enough to knock a good chunk of people off of Peggy's suspect list. Like she'd told Steve, it wasn't enough to nail anyone down, but she had a much better idea of who to keep an eye on now.

"Good," he declared.

"Are you going to eat your dinner?" she asked, nodding down at the untouched tray on his lap. Nurse Rains had brought it by when it seemed certain he was going to be awake long enough to eat it.

Steve shook his head. "I'm not really hungry."

"Steve, you need to eat. You've not had any food since Wednesday, and with your metabolism the way it is—"

"I know!" Steve snapped. "But I said I'm not hungry."

Peggy chose not to take offense at his tone. "Bucky was right," she said. "You do get cranky when you're sick."

Steve looked up at her, surprised, then blushed deeply. "I'm sorry," he said. "I shouldn't've…"

"It's alright," she told him. She tapped the bowl with her wand, reheating the soup. "Just eat a bit. For me?" She blinked her eyes imploringly at him and he scowled.

"You play dirty, Peggy Carter," he said, but he picked up the spoon and took a tentative bite.

She smiled coyly. "If it works," she said with a shrug.

Steve ate two thirds of the soup before putting the spoon down. "Can I stop?" he asked. "I really don't think I can eat any more."

He was looking a bit nauseous. "Alright." She took the tray and moved it aside and he settled back into the pillows. Peggy moved up to sit next to him and tugged his head over to lean on her shoulder. They sat like that for a while, not saying anything. It was easy to blow past how frightening this had all been because he was getting well so quickly. But this had been a close call—closer than either of them liked to admit. Peggy hugged him against her a little tighter.

She thought he'd fallen asleep again when she heard him sniff softly. Looking down, she saw him blinking rapidly, trying and failing to keep the tears pooling his eyes from falling. "Steve, what's wrong?" she asked, moving and turning a bit so she could face him and see him better.

He sniffed and dashed a hand across his nose, his mouth twisting up as he tried not to cry. "Peggy, I…I feel terrible."

"Oh, Steve," she said gently, putting a hand to the side of his face. "I know. But you're going to be alright."

"No," he said, sniffing again and shaking his head. "It isn't that."

"Then what is it?" she asked. It certainly seemed a natural thing to be upset about, though she'd be lying if she said the tears didn't surprise her a little.

"This is…" He swallowed hard, his breath hitching in his throat. "This is what it felt like for her," he said softly. "My ma. She felt this bad. Only she—" His breath hitched again and there was no stopping the tears now. "She wasn't going to get better. She just kept feeling worse and that was the last thing she ever—"

The words stopped as a sob escaped his throat and Peggy pulled him up off the pillows and into her arms, tucking his head under her chin and wrapping her arms around him. "Oh, Steve, I'm sorry," she whispered as he sobbed into her shoulder. She kissed the side of his head and pulled one hand up over his head protectively, holding him as close against her as she could. "I'm so, so sorry."

She didn't know what else to say, so she just held on to him. She felt like the world's biggest idiot—of course this would remind him of what happened to his mum! It was only the same bloody disease after all. She should have seen this coming. She couldn't spend too much time in self-reproach, however, because Steve was still crying, hot anguished tears that she could feel soaking through her shirt and it broke her heart. "Oh, Steve," she whispered. She wanted to whisper reassurances, tell him it was okay, but it wasn't. Outwardly, he always seemed so unshakable and strong, so confident. But he was still a boy who'd watched his mother die, and today he'd been cruelly reminded of how much she'd suffered before he lost her.

Peggy and her mum so very often didn't see eye to eye anymore, but Peggy still couldn't imagine how much it would hurt to lose her. Steve had fallen to pieces when his mum had died, and even as Peggy's heart ached for him, rage churned inside her chest—rage at Hydra for tearing his world apart back then and for making him relive it all now. She was going to end them if it was the last thing she ever did.

She didn't know how much more of this her heart could take, but she kept holding on and he kept crying, and eventually his tears ran out.

"'m sorry," he said thickly, sitting up away from her and wiping his nose.

"Don't be," she told him. Her own eyes had started watering as he'd wept, and she put her hands on the sides of his face and leaned forward, pressing a soft kiss to his forehead. "You've got nothing to apologize for." She sat up and looked at him, her heart breaking all over again at the pain in his blue eyes. "It's alright." Condolences danced on the edge of her tongue, longing to spill out, to say something in an attempt to make it better, but he didn't need that right now. She stroked her fingers along his hairline instead, smiling gently. A tiny, grateful smile tugged up the corners of his mouth and he nodded.

One hand on his chest and one hand on the back of his head, Peggy pushed him back gently to rest against the pillows again. "Get some rest, hey?" she said softly. She longed to do more, but there wasn't anything else she could do. Sleep wouldn't take the pain away, but it would dull the edges. She leaned down and kissed his forehead again as he blinked up at her tiredly. "I'll be right here," she promised.

Steve drifted in and out a lot over the course of the next couple of days, but he found himself able to stay awake for longer periods of time, his strength slowly returning. It had scared him, feeling this sick. It was an all too familiar feeling, and something deep down inside had wondered—since he wasn't supposed to get sick anymore—if this disease was strong enough to break through the serum, to undo it all and take him back to where he'd been before.

He'd been scared too, being awake and watching his teammates continue in their unconsciousness. Both Peggy and Nurse Rains kept reassuring him that it was only that the serum was healing him faster than them, but he still felt better once they started to wake up.

Bucky was the last one to wake up. Steve knew he'd been sicker than the rest of them, but somehow it hadn't seemed as bad in the cage—there, they were all sick; here, he was feeling better, Gabe wasn't coughing anymore, he could see the color returning to Jacques' face, but Bucky remained pale and shaky, still needing the oxygen mask to breathe and persisting in his unconsciousness. Nurse Rains had refused to let Steve get out of bed and move over to sit with him, but Peggy had helped him prop himself up with his pillows so at least he could see him. When Bucky finally did wake up, he coughed and rasped and didn't look like he knew what was going on, but he was alive and he was awake and Steve found it a little easier to breathe.

After the weekend, Peggy had to go back to classes (as did Becky, who'd been practically glued to her brother's bedside), so Steve spent his time—when he was awake—going over the intel Peggy had put together from Gray's lab. Bucky mostly slept. When he was awake, he was very interested in what they'd learned about the spy, and though he was coherent enough now to absorb the information and try to puzzle it out, he wasn't able to stay awake long enough to get very far. Steve supposed it shouldn't be, but it was kind of funny when Bucky kept falling asleep mid-sentence.

One evening, Peggy was back visiting after dinner. Bucky had fallen asleep part-way through the meal, but Becky was sitting beside him, determined to make him finish when he woke up. Steve's appetite was returning, so he'd finished his food and he and Peggy were just sitting and talking. Not about work, which was kind of nice.

"You do know no one's expecting you to do homework right now?" Peggy pointed out.

"Yeah, but I'm bored, and it's less to catch up on when I get out of here," Steve protested. "Besides," he added. "You can't tell me Kendall doesn't think I've got plenty of time to work while I'm just laying around."

Peggy sighed. "He's not very sympathetic, is he? Although, he'll give you grief about it, but he's not actually going to dock your grade for not doing homework while you're sick. I think," she added.

Steve chuckled. Somewhere in the distance, a bell rang, signaling the beginning of Study Hall. Becky sighed and rose, then came around to Steve's bed to give him a hug.

"Goodnight, Steve," she said. "Hope you feel better tomorrow." She cast an eye back over to her brother's bed. "When he wakes up, will you make him finish his dinner?"

"If I'm awake then, then yes, I will."

"Okay, thanks. See you tomorrow. G'night, Peggy."

"Goodnight, Rebecca," Peggy said. Becky waved and went to collect Esther from Jim's bedside before heading back to Ravenclaw Tower.

They talked a little longer before Steve started yawning profusely, and Peggy smiled at him. "I'll go and let you get some rest, shall I?"

"Wait," Steve said, catching her hand as she started to stand up. He'd had a lot of time to think, stuck here in bed without being able to go anywhere, and he'd figured out a few things he thought he should say before he chickened out or before things got busy again.

She sat back down. "Is everything okay?"

He nodded. "Yeah. I just, well, I thought I should tell you…" He drew in a deep breath. Why was this so hard? He never had trouble telling Peggy anything. He looked back up at her. "Peggy, I…I've been thinking about this for a while. And I know it might sound like I'm saying this because I almost died, but that's not really it. I mean, it is a little, but I almost die kind of a lot, and I guess this time it just got me thinking…" He was rambling now. This was going just great.

"You do almost die a lot," Peggy agreed. "It wouldn't hurt you to be more careful." She was smiling while she said it, but Steve could tell she meant it.

"Yeah," he agreed. "It's not like I try to do it or anything."

"I know," she replied. "But what is it you're trying to tell me?"

Oh, right. "Well, um, I…" Another deep breath. "Peggy, I love you. So much. I have for a long time, and I don't know why I haven't said it before. Usually when things go wrong on missions it's so fast there's not time to think about it and then it's over and back to normal, but I had a lot of time to think this time, and I realized I could've died and you'd never know, so I wanted to actually, to really say it. I love you."

Peggy was staring at him with her eyes wide, a look on her face that he couldn't quite figure out what it meant. What felt like a day and a half of silence passed between them, though it was probably only just a few seconds, and Steve's stomach twisted itself into nervous knots. Oh, crap, he took it too far. He should've just not said anything. It was weird now, he'd made it weird, and she was just going to get up and leave, and he should've just stopped talking. Why the hell had he said any of that? But then Peggy smiled at him. Her eyes lit up and she smiled at him in that way that made his stomach twist into an entirely different, wonderful kind of knot.

"Oh, Steve," she breathed, and was she about to cry? "Steve, I love you too."

Steve was probably grinning like an idiot, but he couldn't stop and he didn't really care. "Really?"

"So much," she said, and her eyes were watering, just a little bit, but she threw her arms around his neck and kissed him.

The next couple of minutes were kind of a blur, but she was still smiling when they broke apart and Steve was pretty sure he was too. She kissed him one more time then stood up, trailing her fingers up the side of his face as she stood. "I'll let you get your rest now," she said. "I love you."

He grabbed her hand and kissed her fingers before she pulled it away. "I love you too," he said. Wow, that felt so good to say! And it felt…right. He should have done it a long time ago. "Good night."

She smiled and waved and he watched her walk away, the dizzy buzzing in his head broken by a raspy chuckle from the bed to his left. "Atta boy, Stevie," Bucky said proudly.

Steve spun to the left, feeling his face get so hot he was pretty sure his hair was blushing. Bucky was looking over at him, grinning from ear to ear. "You, uh, you heard that, huh?" was the best Steve could manage.

"Yep."

"You could've said something."

"I woke up right before you got the words out. You really wanted me to interrupt?"

Well, when you looked at it that way, no, not really.

"Look," Bucky continued. "I'm sorry, I wasn't trying to eavesdrop."

Steve waved the apology away. "Well, you're like, four feet away. Ward's not exactly built for privacy." Joy came bubbling back up and he grinned. "Buck, she said it back! She loves me too!"

"Well, sure," Bucky said with a smile. "I coulda told you that." His smile softened. "I'm happy for you, man."

"Thanks." He leaned back against his pillows with a happy sigh, contentment rolling through him along with his exhaustion. Oh, wait, yeah. "Oh, yeah, I was supposed to tell you if you and me were awake at the same time that Becky wants you to finish your dinner."

Bucky looked over at the tray on the nightstand and the half-finished sandwich. "Yeah, I guess I should." He reached an arm out and snagged the sandwich off the tray. "How long you been waiting to tell her that?" he asked, nodding at the door Peggy had left through.

Steve yawned and shrugged thoughtfully. "Dunno. A while. Always figured there'd be time, you know? Then she almost died after that thing with Coleman and I almost did it then, but then things were normal again so fast. And then it got real bad for us this time, and I realized something could happen on some mission and she'd never know."

Bucky nodded. "Were you also holding off 'cause you were afraid she wasn't going to say it back?"

Steve inclined his head. "A little. Is that normal? I mean, I feel like we're in the same place, so I would hope she would."

"It's normal. Fear of rejection's not always rational," Bucky said sagely. He grinned. "But she did say it back."

"Yeah," Steve sighed happily. "It feels awesome."

Bucky chuckled. "No kidding. You look about ready to float away."

"Shut up," Steve said, blushing but not really minding. He did feel like he could float away somewhere.

"What, so I'm finally awake and now you're falling asleep?" Bucky asked, and Steve realized his eyes were closed. "Who'm I supposed to talk to?"

"S'alright," he told Bucky, not opening his eyes. "You been awake, like, ten minutes. You'll be out again soon."

Bucky snorted, but there was a fond smile in his voice when he said, "G'night, Stevie."

At the end of a week, most of the team was released from the infirmary. Steve, though he was recovered a day or two ahead of the rest of them, had been forced to stay just to make sure the lingering contagion was gone. He'd been very antsy the last couple of days, practically bouncing down the stairs when he'd been released with the rest of them. Bucky was still there, and it would be a few more days until he got out, though he was looking much better. Dugan was still in too, and you would have thought he was dying, the way he moaned about it.

Peggy had been working in the library with Steve, helping him catch up on what he'd missed. It still sent a little thrill down her spine, hearing him say the words, 'I love you', and it still sent warmth swelling through her chest when she said them back. It just felt right, like they should have always been saying it, and she did wonder why she never had before. She supposed she had always been a bit slow when it came to expressing her feelings about Steve.

She and Steve finished up what they were working on, and he kissed her and told her he loved her and left for the infirmary to help Bucky with the same project. Bucky still had plenty of time to do it, but he was at the stage in his illness now where he felt significantly better and was inclined to feel bored and cranky about being forced to stay in bed. Homework was a fair distraction.

Peggy would have gone with him, but she had some more stuff she needed to work on here. It was hard to get much of anything done with Rose and Martha whispering and giggling across the table, however. "What are you two on about?" she asked.

Rose smiled. "She was just telling me about her walk last night with David in the rose garden."

"It is lovely in in the moonlight," Martha agreed. She smirked. "Maybe when Bucky's on his feet again, you two could take a walk down there."

"Oh, no, didn't I tell you?" Rose said. "We split it off before he went off to Switzerland."

"What? Really?" Peggy hadn't heard that.

"Oh, there was nothing wrong," Rose said. "It just turns out that aside from liking Quidditch, we've not got anything in common. And you can't talk about Quidditch forever, so…" She shrugged.

Martha grinned. "Who says you need to talk?"

Rose laughed. "That's true. We did have fun."

"Okay, no," Peggy said, sensing where this was going. "You can stop now. That's one of my best friends you're talking about, I really don't want any more details than that."

"Sorry," Rose said, still smiling. They studied quietly for a minute before she leaned across the table to Martha. "He is a good kisser, though, isn't he?"

Martha, who had gone out with Bucky at some point during Fifth Year, nodded vehemently. "Oh, yeah," she agreed. She sighed dreamily. "That thing he does where he sort of…bites your lip a bit…"

"Oh, yeah," Rose agreed.

"Okay," Peggy said, standing up and grabbing her book. "I'll see you later."

Rose and Martha cackled behind her as she walked away and were promptly shushed by the librarian.

Deciding to stop off in the bathroom, Peggy thought she heard a soft, sniffling sound coming from one of the stalls as she shut the main door. It sounded like someone crying. "Hello?" she asked. "Is someone there?" The sound was coming from the stall on the end, and Peggy saw a small pair of shoes underneath the door. "Are you alright?" she asked, easing the door open.

Rebecca Barnes looked up, hastily wiping her nose on her sleeve as Peggy came in. "Oh, h—hi Peggy," she said. "I'm, it's fine, I'm okay."

"No, you're not," Peggy said. Her blue eyes were red and puffy—she'd clearly been having quite a cry. "What's wrong?"

Rebecca sighed. "Me and Matthew had a fight," she said quietly. Peggy thought back quickly—Matthew was the boy she'd started going out with last term, much to her brother's surprise.

"I'm sorry," Peggy said. She put an arm over her shoulders and led her out from inside the stall. "Do you want to talk about it?"

Rebecca shrugged in an attempt at nonchalance, but the story came spilling out so quickly, the answer was obviously, 'yes'. "Well, we were, we were supposed to go down to the lake this afternoon. Only, I was late 'cause I was doing homework and I lost track of what time it was. But then, he, well, he didn't get mad I was late, but he got upset that I was doing the homework with Mickey Fowler. I said why does it matter if I was doing homework with Mickey, and he said 'cause Mickey's a boy, and I shouldn't be spending so much time with other boys 'cause I'm going out with him. And I told him I don't like Mickey like that, and Mickey's my friend and he needed help figuring out how to do a Shield spell, and I'm pretty good at Shield spells, so why shouldn't I help him? And he said that that wasn't the point, that I'm always doing stuff like that and that it looks bad when people see me around with all these boys who aren't him, 'cause it looks like I'm some sort of floozy or something."

Peggy's eyebrows leapt up into her hair. "He said what?"

"Yeah, I slapped him when he called me that—"

"Good for you," Peggy interrupted, and Becky smiled a little and continued.

"But then he started yelling, so I started yelling back, and we had a big fight and now we're not, we're not going out anymore," she finished. She sniffed again. "And I just, he made me so mad, but he, I mean…Was he right?" she asked softly, tears pooling in her eyes again.

"No," Peggy said firmly.

"Really?"

"Really. A good guy is not going to try to tell you who you can and can't be friends with. Look at me and Steve. He doesn't mind when I spend time with Jim, or Gabe, or your brother. Because he knows we're friends. Or your brother and Vicki Marlowe when they're together. She's the year above him and in a different House—I don't think he even knows most of the boys she's friends with. But she spends time with them and he doesn't get angry. Just like she doesn't get angry when he spends time with me." She leaned down to look Rebecca in the eye and put a hand on her shoulder. "It goes both ways. You have to trust each other in a relationship, and someone trying to control who you spend time with, they don't trust you. You did the right thing, telling him off."

Rebecca was blinking up at her, absorbing her words, and now her cheeks were starting to go a little red. "Yeah. I just, well, I guess I thought he was alright. He was real nice otherwise."

Peggy squeezed her shoulder warmly. "I know. It doesn't make you stupid, that you missed it," she said, sensing where the red in Rebecca's cheeks was really coming from. "Sometimes, you can tell straight away when there's a problem, and sometimes you have to get to know a person a bit first before you can tell. That's going to be true, well, I suppose it's not particularly encouraging right now, but that's going to be true for most of your life. You do get a bit better at figuring it out quicker as you get older, though. If that helps."

One side of Rebecca's mouth quirked up in a smile. "I just," she sighed. "I just feel dumb. I made a whole big deal to Jay about how I was ready to start going out with boys and how I could tell which ones were good and all. But I was wrong."

"You weren't wrong," Peggy said. "You did the best you could with what you knew at the time, and things were alright for a while. It takes time for problems to show, and it doesn't make you wrong not spotting something that wasn't there in the beginning. It doesn't mean you're wrong about other people or that you're terrible at figuring boys out. In fact, it gives you more to work with next time."

Rebecca nodded, but her eyes were watery again. "It still hurts, though," she said quietly.

Peggy nodded. "I know." She put her other hand on Rebecca's other shoulder and pulled her over for a hug. "And that's alright too. Just because Matthew was wrong about this, it doesn't mean he's evil incarnate. There must have been something good you liked about him, or you wouldn't have gone out with him to start with." She stroked a hand across Rebecca's dark hair. "It's alright to mourn losing that."

She heard a little sniffle against her shoulder, and Rebecca nodded a little and started crying softly. Peggy just stood there and held her, stroking her hair. It was a little awkward, she supposed, since she didn't feel like she really knew Rebecca all that well, but at the same time it was rather touching that the girl trusted her enough to do this.

After a few minutes, Rebecca straightened up and wiped her nose on her sleeve. "Thanks, Peggy," she said, smiling shyly. "I'm sorry, I…"

"It's alright," Peggy assured her. "There's nothing wrong with having a good cry. And there's nothing wrong with doing it more than once, either," she added. Heartache didn't heal overnight. She patted her shoulder, then steered her over to the mirror by the sink. "Let's wash your face up, hey? You'll feel better."

Rebecca washed her face and used a hairbrush Peggy lent her to straighten up her hair and readjust her headband, and she looked much more like her usual self when she was done. "Thanks," she said. A faint red returned to her cheeks. "Could you, um, could you not tell Jay?"

"If you don't want me to," Peggy said. "Are you going to tell him?" He would probably find out eventually that his sister and Matthew were no longer a couple. Especially if there had been other people around to watch their yelling match.

"Yeah," Rebecca nodded. "I just, I don't wanna bother him while he's still sick, 'cause he'll get all mad and stuff. And I, I don't know…"

"He's not going to tease you about it," Peggy told her, guessing where the rest of that sentence was going. Rebecca looked skeptical. "He's not," Peggy insisted. "Well, he might a bit, but not until he's sure that you're alright," she amended. "Rebecca, he adores you. If you're hurt, then he's going to hurt with you, and he'll be very cross with Matthew, but he's not going to make fun of you."

Rebecca smiled. "Yeah," she said softly. They exited the bathroom together, Rebecca waving shyly at her as she left, and Peggy smiled. She was going to be alright.

True to her word, Peggy said not a word to Bucky about Matthew and his sister. A few days later, when he'd finally been released from the infirmary, they celebrated by going outside and enjoying the nice spring weather down by the lake. They hadn't been down there long when Rebecca approached. "Hey, Jay?" she said. "Can I talk to you for a minute?"

"Sure, Munchkin," he said. "Is something wrong?"

"No. I mean, not…a little, maybe, I just…"

Peggy tugged Steve away to other side of the rock they were sitting on to give them some privacy. She knew where this was going. She couldn't keep a smile from her face a few minutes later when an indignant Bucky demanded, "He called you what?!"

"What?" Steve asked, looking down at her.

"I'll tell you later," she said, still smiling. That, or Bucky would. And apparently, he did. That evening at dinner, they were sitting at the Ravenclaw table with Jim and Esther and Gabe, and a very red-faced Matthew Wallace approached the table.

"Um, Rebecca, can I talk to you a minute?" he asked, keeping well away from Bucky, his eyes darting nervously between him and Steve.

"No," Rebecca said shortly. "I don't want to talk to you."

"Oh, um," Matthew said. He looked very wrong-footed for a moment, then Steve cleared his throat and Matthew continued. "I just wanted to say sorry, is all. I shouldn't've called you…well, I shouldn't've said that. I'm sorry." Before Rebecca could respond, he bolted away back to the Slytherin table.

"Jay, what did you do?" Rebecca asked, looking up at her brother curiously.

"Don't look at me like that, Gabe, the kid is twelve, I didn't hit him. Much as I wanted to," Bucky said. He looked back down at his sister. "I had a nice, long talk with him. No hands. Just words. I did threaten him pretty good, because nobody talks to my little sister like that. And I told him he'd better stay away from you, which that right there was not technically doing, but I guess it's nice he apologized."

"I'm the one who made him apologize," Steve said. They all turned to look at him and he shrugged. "Bucky's right, Becky. Nobody talks to you like that."

The conversation turned other ways then before it got too awkward, and Peggy saw Rebecca smiling down at her lap and blushing happily. When they got up after the meal, she hugged Steve and Bucky both warmly and kissed them each on the cheek.

"That was really sweet," Peggy told Steve as he started walking her back to her dorm.

He blushed a little, but shrugged again. "Just seemed like something I should do, you know? I mean, she's not really my sister, but…"

"But she sort of is," Peggy finished for him.

"Yeah."

"I think it's very sweet," she told him, stretching up on her toes to kiss his cheek. Rebecca was in good hands. She had two big brothers who cared about her very much looking out for her.

So there's a nice, soft chapter to end the week on. Hope you all enjoy the weekend!