Alright, as promised, Steve and Bucky and Little Sister Becky fluffiness. Everything's going to be okay.


Bucky sank down onto one of the stools in the infirmary with a pained groan. Everything hurt. He was having trouble remembering if he'd ever been in a tougher fight. The quick fix spells Jim had been casting during the battle had been great for keeping them alive and keeping them going, but they'd worn off now, and every piece of Bucky's anatomy was protesting its existence. Ironically, the only thing that didn't hurt was where he'd gotten shot in the stomach. Jim had had time to properly fix that.

He felt a little hand on his knee and he opened his eyes to see Willow standing there, a large cup of something sweet-smelling in her hands. "Master Bucky must drink this," she said. "Sir is in much pain, but this will help."

"Thanks, Willow," he said, taking the cup. He nodded at the curtain a couple of beds over. "Are they almost done?" Nurse Rains was on the other side, examining Becky.

Willow nodded. "Yes, sir. Nearly finished, I thinks."

"Is everything alright?" he asked nervously.

Willow nodded again, taking the cup back. "From what Willow hears, sir, yes, sir." She laid a comforting hand on Bucky's arm. "Sir will know soon."

She moved further down the ward, various cups of potions and remedies on her tray destined for the rest of the team. They were all pulling through with no serious injuries—even Peggy's knee had been a quick repair job. They were all just sore and exhausted, and Rains had declared they'd all be spending the night up here.

The curtain slid back and Bucky pushed himself to his feet, a little less sore than when he'd sat down. Becky was in bed, smoothing down her covers, and Rains looked up and saw him coming and smiled, so it was probably good news.

"Is everything okay?" he asked, sitting down next to Becky and taking her hand.

"She's going to be just fine," Rains said. "No permanent damage done from the magic, though she may be a little unsteady on her feet for a few days. A trifle undernourished, but with lots of rest, lots of food, and lots of looking after from her big brother, she's going to be alright."

"Good," Bucky said, grateful for the news. He squeezed Becky's hand and leaned in to kiss her on the forehead.

"I'm going to check in with some of the other lads, but I'll be back," Rains said, standing up and patting Becky's feet underneath the blanket. "I've given her a potion to help her sleep," she told Bucky. "So, don't be surprised if she starts nodding off."

"How you doing, Munchkin?" he asked gently as Rains walked away. Physically, she was fine, but she'd been held captive for nearly three weeks, even if she was unconscious for most of it. Those kinds of wounds were a lot harder to heal.

"I don't know," Becky said softly. She nuzzled her head against his side. "Kind of scared, and kind of…maybe sort of mad, but mostly I'm just…I'm tired."

Bucky rubbed a hand up and down her arm. "Okay." He kissed the side of her head again. "You can go ahead and go to sleep."

She blinked up at him curiously. "You don't wanna know what happened?"

"Of course, I do," he told her. "Whatever you need to talk about, I want to know about all of it. You can tell me anything. But you don't have to do it right now." He tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear. "We can talk whenever you feel like it. We've got all the time in the world, you and me, because I'm not going anywhere."

She smiled just a little bit at that. "Thanks," she whispered.

"Hey, Becky," Steve said, sitting down next to the bed. When Rains had pulled the curtain for the examination, he'd gone down the ward to check in with the rest of the team. "Is everything okay?"

"Uh huh," she said. "How's everybody else? Is Esther okay?"

Steve nodded. "She is. She's asleep over there."

"What about Peggy?"

"She's fine. She's already walking around. Or, she would be," Steve corrected with a smile. "If Nurse Rains didn't keep making her get back in bed."

"That's good," Becky said softly. Bucky knew she felt really bad about what had happened to Peggy, as if it had been her fault somehow. She kept her arm looped around Bucky's waist, but she reached out her other hand to Steve, and he took it. "Thanks for rescuing me," she said quietly, looking up at Bucky and then over at Steve.

Bucky hugged her tighter and Steve squeezed her hand. "We're always gonna come for you, Munchkin," Bucky said firmly.

"Always," Steve insisted.

"I know," she whispered. She gave them a watery smile. "Thanks."

Bucky leaned down and kissed the top of her head, and she nuzzled her head into his side and shut her eyes. He reached up and brushed his fingers softly through her hair as she fell asleep.

"Is she really okay?" Steve asked after a few minutes.

"She's not hurt," Bucky said. "Rains said all she needs is sleep and food." He swallowed down a knot in his throat. "She's pretty shook up, though."

Steve nodded. "Yeah." They could both imagine how she felt, but neither of them had to. "Are you okay?" Steve asked.

Bucky shrugged. "Bullet hole doesn't hurt anymore. Still pretty sore everywhere else, but Willow had a thing for that. Did you drink yours?" He knew Steve had gotten thrown pretty hard into that wall earlier—Jim's quick-fix spell had actually been holding back some internal bleeding that Rains had had to clear up the rest of the way.

"I did," Steve said. He looked Bucky in the eye. "You know that's not really what I meant."

Bucky sighed. "I know." He didn't say anything for a minute. "This should never have happened to her," he said at last, unable to keep the bite out of his voice.

Steve flinched as though Bucky had slapped him, but he nodded. "I know," he said quietly.

"No, Stevie, I…" Bucky shook his head. "I wasn't blaming you."

"You should," Steve said.

"Schmidt warned us all," Bucky said. "We all made the decision to go ahead." He sighed. "None of us knew this would happen. I'm not mad at anybody on the team or anything, I'm just…I'm just mad. And I don't have anything to direct it at. But I'm not…" He hadn't been trying to direct any of it at Steve, and he hadn't meant for it to land there. "Please don't think I'm mad at you."

"I just can't help feeling like I should've done something different," Steve protested.

"I keep thinking the same thing," Bucky said. "I've only been over it, like, a million times. But, Stevie, not backing down from Schmidt was the right call. It…It sucks," he growled. "But we did the right thing."

"It doesn't feel like the right thing," Steve said, nodding down at Becky. His hand was still wrapped around hers.

"No, it doesn't," Bucky agreed. "But we gotta…" He smiled. "We gotta get each other through this."

Steve huffed a semi-amused laugh. "Seems like all we do anymore."

"We're getting pretty good at it," Bucky said, and Steve smiled a little more. "Look at me and say it, Steve," he told him. "I'm not mad at you."

Steve met his gaze, then nodded. "You're not mad at me."

"Good."

"You know I'm not mad at you either, right?" Steve said.

Bucky smiled softly. "I know."

Steve sighed and shifted his chair over a little so his arm wasn't stretched out awkwardly, then leaned his head back against the wall. "I'm taking us off the mission roster for the rest of the term, though," he said. There was only about a week and a half left, but something could still come up. He nodded down at Becky again. "She's gonna need us around for a while. And I think we all need some time to find our feet again, kind of…kind of shore things up some before we go back out."

Bucky nodded, relieved. He wasn't ready to run off on other missions and leave Becky alone, and Steve was right, the team needed some time to recover from this. It was different than after the mine, but it was still a sucker-punch they hadn't been ready for. They all needed some time, and a quiet end to the term and then a long break at home would do them all good.

They didn't talk much after that, just sat there holding on to Becky, lost in their own thoughts. Even though Bucky had just given this whole big speech about how he didn't blame Steve for what happened, he did let a lot of that blame rest on himself. It was hypocritical, Bucky knew, and maybe even illogical. If it was anyone's fault (besides Schmidt's), then, yeah, you could argue that as the team leader's, it was Steve's. But Steve hadn't known any of this would happen, had never dreamed Becky would pay the price for something they did, and it seemed stupid to blame him for something he couldn't control. He truly didn't hold it against Steve at all, hadn't even thought of doing it. By that logic, Bucky shouldn't be blaming himself either, but it was so much easier to absolve someone else than it was himself. But his sister was alive, and maybe one day, after she was really okay…maybe one day he would.

Bucky woke up with a crick in his neck from leaning against the wall all night. Becky was still snuggled against his waist, though she had rolled over, pulling Steve's hand with her and making him lean and stretch across the mattress, where he was still sprawled out asleep. Bucky smiled warmly and settled back, trying not to move so he didn't wake either of them.

He looked up and blinked in surprise to see both of his parents sitting beside the bed. "Ma?" he asked. "Pop?"

"Hello, sweetheart," his mother said, reaching over to pat his arm.

"What are you doing here?" he asked. Well, okay, stupid question, they were here because of Becky, but…

"Professor Phillips called us yesterday to let us know what happened," his pop said. "By the time they'd arranged an emergency transport for us and the Moritas, you were all asleep. We didn't want to wake you."

Bucky looked down guiltily. "I was gonna tell you," he said. "It was just all so fast, and as soon as we knew where she was, I had to—"

"It's alright, sweetheart," his mother assured him. "We understand." She looked like she'd been crying, but she smiled at him. "We're just glad you were able to bring her back safely. Are you alright?"

"I'm fine, Ma," he said. "Me and Steve both." Sure, he'd gotten shot—again—but he was fine now, so there wasn't any need to bring it up.

"Good," she said.

"You can go on back to sleep if you want," his pop said. "From what we heard, it sounded like a rough night."

Bucky shook his head and sat up a little straighter, and they talked softly for a while until Becky and Steve woke up. His parents wanted to know everything that had happened, and Bucky told them everything he could. They deserved to know, and if they were going to be upset with him for letting this happen to her in the first place, well, he deserved that. They weren't upset, though, just grateful that they were all back safe.

"That was an amazing thing you did," his pop told him, squeezing his arm warmly. "We're proud of you, son."

Bucky wasn't sure what to say to that, blinking back grateful tears, but then Becky and Steve woke up and saved him from having to say anything.

Steve and Bucky both got up so his ma and pop could sit with Becky, and Nurse Rains came over to check on them and see about getting them all some breakfast. She prodded gently at the side of Bucky's head where he'd taken a pretty good hit when they were saving Esther and gave him another potion to take for it—she'd fixed up as much as she could last night, but the downside of Jim's quick-fix spells was that some of them took longer to wear off than others, and they actually masked some injuries when she checked for them the night before.

Bucky didn't have any intention of leaving his sister alone for a very long time, but his mother tactfully suggested that now that she and their father were here to look after her, perhaps Steve and Bucky would like to leave and take a shower. His pop snorted at that, and even Becky smiled just a tiny little bit, and Bucky rolled his eyes and kissed his sister on the cheek and tramped downstairs to take a shower. He had smelled better, he supposed. And his muscles still felt sort of achy, and the hot water felt amazing.

He spent the rest of the day up in the infirmary. The rest of the team was patched up and cleared to go, and they all came and checked in with Becky and Esther before they left. Peggy sat and stayed a while, and Bucky appreciated the way she made sure to let his sister know that even though her leg had gotten hurt coming after her, she wasn't holding it against her.

Becky didn't talk much for the rest of the day. She mostly slept, waking up to eat, and she'd sit up for a while and listen to everyone else talk, clinging on to whoever happened to be sitting next to her. She did tell them a little bit about what it had been like—as soon as the necklace went on, she would drift away, and she was kind of asleep, but she could feel Yvonne sifting through the inside of her head. She couldn't do anything but float there, and she always felt groggy and confused and a little nauseous when they took the necklace off and she woke up. They would wake her and Esther up at night, when Yvonne and Helena were sleeping and didn't need the memories. That was when they got to eat. Then Zwart would come back in the morning and make sure all the magic was working the way it should, occasionally recasting or recalibrating one of the spells, then the necklace would go back on and she'd float away again. Bucky hugged her a little tighter as she told the story. It sounded uncomfortably similar to his time with Zola, and the fact that someone had put his little sister through that made him wish he hadn't killed Zwart quite so quickly.

He was sitting with her later that evening. His parents had gone to talk to Phillips, and Steve was doing some debriefing with Peggy about the Koenig twins. Becky was leaning into his side, fiddling with one of the buttons on his shirt.

"You were the one who shot that guy, weren't you?" she said rather abruptly, breaking the silence.

"Um," Bucky began. He knew she knew what he did when he went on missions, but it still didn't feel good admitting that to her. "Yeah," he said.

Becky didn't raise her head from off his stomach, but she angled it up to look at him. "Thanks."

He smiled a little and stroked her cheek. "You're welcome. I'm sorry you had to see something like that, though."

She shook her head. "I know you've had to kill some people before, Jay. But you did it to protect people—it doesn't make me think you're a bad person or anything. And I know that even though it's Hydra and all, you don't like doing it." She'd asked him once why he always spent time down by the punching bags after missions, and he'd tried to explain it as best he could. She stopped playing with his button and looked up at him seriously. "Thanks for doing it for me."

Bucky looped both his arms around her and hugged her tight, kissing her warmly on the forehead. "I'm always gonna protect you, Munchkin," he whispered fiercely in her ear. "Anything I have to do to keep you safe, I'm happy to do it." He closed his eyes and leaned into her hair. "I love you so much."

"I love you too, Jay," she whispered. He felt a wet patch on his side where she started to cry into his shirt, and he just pulled her closer and held on. She cried for a little while, then went still, and Bucky started to wonder if she'd fallen asleep, but then she turned her head and her fingers resumed their picking at his shirt button. "Sorry I keep crying all over you," she said softly.

He smiled sadly and sat up a little, rubbing his hand up and down her arm. "You see me judging? You know how much I cried when I got away from Hydra?"

She nuzzled her head against him, but didn't look up. "Can I ask you something?" she asked after a minute.

"Anything," he told her.

She was quiet for a minute, and he gave her time to figure out what she was trying to say. He remembered how hard it was to put words together when it didn't feel like your head was on straight. "When you…" she began at last. "I mean, after you…When Steve brought you back, how did you…How did you figure out how to be okay again?"

Tears prickled sharply in the corners of Bucky's eyes, and he closed them and sighed deeply. "I wasn't for a while," he admitted.

She nodded minutely. "I remember," she said softly.

Bucky swallowed down a lump in his throat. "I was scared and jumpy and my head never felt like it was on straight. But you know what helped me?"

She shook her head.

"Steve," he said simply. "You. Ma. I could tell everyone was worried, but nobody got mad that I wasn't getting better fast enough. Nobody made me feel embarrassed for being scared, or like a baby for needing someone to take care of me. You would read me stories, even though I'm usually the one who reads to you, and Ma would sit with me on the couch and let me fall asleep with my head in her lap like I was a little kid again, and when I had bad dreams Steve would wake up and talk to me until they went away, and sometimes he'd just hold on to me until I felt safe again. The people who loved me were what helped me be okay again. Nobody treated me like I was broken, and nobody acted like the things I needed were some kind of extra burden. No matter how bad Hydra was…" His voice wavered and he took a second to draw in a deep breath. "No matter how bad they were, they were never gonna be bad enough to outweigh how much my family loved me. That's what helped me figure out how to be okay again. And that's what's gonna help you be okay again too."

Becky sniffled and raised a hand to wipe her nose.

"It might take a little while," Bucky said. "And, oh, sweet girl, you don't know how much I wish I could just make all of it okay for you right now. But however long it takes, it's okay. Whatever you need for however long you need it. Me, Steve, Ma and Pop—we're here for every little step of the way." He picked up her hand from where it was still toying with his button and squeezed it tight. "I'm here for you, Munchkin. Forever and for always."

She rolled her head to look up at him, steel blue eyes so like his own glistening with moisture just like his were. She didn't seem to know what to say, but she was smiling, a real smile, and Bucky leaned down and kissed her forehead gently and just rested his head on top of hers for a minute.

Becky yawned, and Bucky smiled and shifted a little bit, adjusting her so she would be more comfortable. "Go on to sleep, Munchkin. I gotcha."

"Can I tell you one more thing first?" she asked.

"Sure."

She tapped her finger against one of the buttons on his shirt. "I'm not mad at you, you know," she said. "I know you think that I am, or maybe that I should be, but you're not saying anything 'cause you think you deserve it." She smiled at the look on his face. "I know stuff," she said. "And I'm smart. I'm in Ravenclaw, remember? I can figure things out."

Bucky laughed a little at that.

"Anyway, I…you told me what happened in the mine, and what Schmidt said you should do. And you didn't listen to him, so you think it's your fault I got hurt. But it's not."

"Becky—"

"Jay, I know how much you love me. I know you wouldn't ever do anything if you thought it was gonna hurt me. What happened was…It was just an accident. You didn't mean for it to happen. Like that time you bumped into me and knocked me down the stairs and I broke my wrist."

"This is a little bigger than falling down the stairs," he pointed out.

"Yeah," she agreed. "But it wasn't any more on purpose." She yawned again. "I don't think I need to say it, but if you need to hear it, then I forgive you."

Bucky blinked back the sudden moisture springing to his eyes, something tight unclenching in his chest. "Becky…" He didn't know what to say.

"I love you, Jay," she said softly. "And I'm really not mad." She stretched the arm that was resting on his stomach around him and hugged him. "I may not be alright yet, but you and me are okay," she finished sleepily.

Bucky rested a hand gently on her hair, brushing his fingers through it softly. "Thank you," he whispered shakily, all he could really say. What had he done to deserve a sister so amazing?

She nodded against his side, letting her eyes sink shut. "Tell Steve I'm not mad at him either," she said, and if Bucky hadn't been sitting so close, he wouldn't have been able to catch all the words that were swallowed into a yawn. "I love you both, but you guys can be kind of dumb about stuff like this."


The end of term seemed to come very quickly despite how uneventful it was. Becky spent a couple of days up in the infirmary, and Steve and Bucky were up there almost the whole time, though the Barneses did insist that the two of them go down each night and sleep in their dorm in a real bed. They stayed on after Becky got out too, just to make sure she was alright. There wasn't much of the term left, and Phillips had offered to let them take her home, but Becky had wanted to try to stay for a couple of days first to try to get her feet back under her.

She reminded Steve an awful lot of Bucky after he'd brought him home from Azzano. She wasn't sick, or hurt like he had been, but there was something in her manner, in that lost look in her eyes, that sent Steve's mind reeling back to that winter two years ago. He'd been able to help Bucky back then, but he wasn't sure how to help Becky now. Though Bucky and Becky both had made it clear they didn't hold what happened to her against him, Steve wasn't so quick to forgive himself. He knew it was the right thing, standing up to Schmidt. He knew that no one could have foreseen this turn of events. He just couldn't stop turning it over and over in his mind and wondering what he should have done differently to keep it from happening. Because he was the Captain. Planning for contingencies to keep his people safe was his job. And he'd failed.

The afternoon before she was supposed to go home, Steve was down in the garage working on his bike and trying to figure out what he should say to her before she left. He hadn't come up with much so far.

"I thought I might find you in here," came a voice from the door, and Steve turned around to see Mr. Barnes. He walked over to where Steve was working, leaning down to take a look. "She's looking good. Bucky tells me you take her out for rides off campus."

"Yes, sir."

Mr. Barnes nodded. "Beautiful country for it." He moved away and stepped back to lean against a workbench, folding his arms and seemingly content to watch Steve work. Steve couldn't help but feel like he should say something.

"I'm sorry, sir," he said at last.

"For what?"

"For what happened to Becky," he said. "I…I should've…"

"Steve," he said, stopping him from going any further. "Have I ever told you about the car accident I was in?"

Steve frowned, confused. "No, sir."

"I was driving to the train station to pick up Mrs. Barnes. She'd gone upstate to see her mother. There was some construction blocking the road, so I had to take a detour. I could've gone a couple of different ways, but I picked the one that would give me the most direct route. Went on a few more blocks, came to an intersection. A four way stop, no lights, just signs. I waited until it was my turn, then I pulled out into the intersection. Halfway through, a milk truck ran the sign—he hadn't planned on stopping, I guess, and it was too late to stop by the time he saw me. He slammed into the car and sent me spinning around, across the intersection and into the wall of a drugstore."

Steve still wasn't sure why he was telling him this story, but he couldn't help listening in fascination. He'd never heard it before. When had this happened?

"I was pretty banged up," Mr. Barnes continued. "But my door opened alright, and I got out. The car was almost in two pieces, but that wasn't what worried me. You know what did?"

Steve shook his head.

"Bucky was in the backseat."

Steve's mouth dropped open in shock.

"He was two years old," Mr. Barnes added, his voice a little tight. "I looked back there and he was on the floor, covered in dirt and blood and not moving, and I picked him up and apparated the hell out of there, not caring a fig for who might have seen me. Straight to St. Clement's, and a good thing too—the Healers there said he wouldn't've made it if I'd waited for an ambulance." He stopped and looked down at his shoes, and the smile on his face when he pulled his head back up was one Steve was all too familiar with—the one that meant everything was most certainly not fine, but maybe if you smiled you could convince yourself it would be.

"He was fine," Mr. Barnes continued. "Bad as it was, it was nothing magic couldn't fix up quick and easy, and we went home." He sighed. "I couldn't look at him for weeks. Every time I did, all I could see was his tiny little broken body in the back seat and I would think how close I had come to losing him. For weeks, all I could think was that I should have just gone the other way—if I'd only turned the other way, none of it would have happened."

Steve thought he could tell where the story was going now.

"It took me a while to make my peace with it," he said. "But I finally accepted that I had done the best I could." He smiled sadly and straightened up, reaching over to put a hand on Steve's shoulder. "You did the best you could too, Steve. Maybe you could have done something different, and maybe it would have been better, but maybe it would have been worse. You'll never know. And you can dwell in the what if's forever, but all you end up getting out of that is an ulcer." He smiled just a little. "Trust me on that one."

Steve tried to smile back, but couldn't quite manage it.

"What happened to Rebecca happened because an evil man did an evil thing," Mr. Barnes said. "But she's alive and safe now because a good man did an incredible thing." Steve looked up to see Mr. Barnes' eyes watering. Steve's own eyes weren't exactly dry either, and Mr. Barnes pulled him forward into a fierce hug. "Thank you," he whispered. "Thank you for bringing my baby girl home."

"And if you look at her," Mr. Barnes continued after a minute. "If you look at her and all you can see is that scared, hurt little girl in the hands of a dark wizard, then close your eyes. Listen to the way she smiles when she says your name. Feel the way her hand rests in yours when you're holding it. And then look at her again and see if, instead of seeing the girl who was taken, you see the girl who was saved."

Steve nodded, something inside his chest unlocking and letting him breathe. "Yes, sir," he nodded. He finally managed to get that smile working. "Thank you, sir."

"You're welcome, son," Mr. Barnes said, clapping him on the back and letting him go. He smiled warmly and nodded down at the bike. "Now. You want some help with that cracked plug?"

The last week of school passed quietly. Steve spent a lot of time studying or sitting with Peggy, and checking the morning owls daily for news from home about Becky. She was reportedly bored and a little bit cranky without him and Bucky home, but she was getting the rest she needed, and Steve was glad. He couldn't imagine going through something like that and then having to go back to school like everything was fine.

End of term exams came and went, and then it was time to head home. Becky didn't always sit with them on the train, but it was weird not having her there at all. She was excited to have him and Bucky home, smiling more than Steve remembered from the infirmary, and that was good to see. They still hadn't seen her laugh, though.

Now that they were home, she followed them around the house like a shadow, clinging on to whichever one of them was nearest. Bucky had taken to just scooping her up and tossing her over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes when he got up and moved. She didn't seem to mind.

Steve knew she was having nightmares. Like with Bucky, it had taken a little while for the trauma to manifest as bad dreams, but they were here now. He never heard her crying at night, but sometimes he would wake up in the morning to find her in Bucky's bed, rolled up in the quilt from her bed and secure under his arm, both of them sleeping soundly. Bucky said he didn't think she cried—like Steve, he'd been listening. She just woke up quietly, wrapped herself up in her blanket and came down the hall. They both tried to see if she wanted to talk about the dreams, but she had trouble articulating them.

One night, Steve had stayed up later than usual. He'd gotten to a good part in his book, so he stayed in the living room with one of the lamps on to read. Caught up in the story, he wasn't sure how long he'd been reading, but he looked up at the sound of soft footsteps.

"Hey, Becky," he said, seeing her standing in the doorway in her pajamas and fuzzy slippers.

"Hi," she said softly.

"Did you have another bad dream?" he asked. Maybe she'd been on the way down to their room and gotten distracted by the light.

She shook her head. "I wasn't asleep. I…" She sighed. "I can't sleep," she said quietly.

Steve nodded sympathetically. Sometimes what your brain couldn't shut down was just as bad as the nightmares. "You want to come sit over here with me for a while?" he offered, patting the couch cushion next to him.

She didn't say anything, but shuffled over, climbing up on the couch and leaning on him, snuggling underneath his arm.

"Why do you and Jay keep asking me what I dream about?" she asked once she was settled.

"Well," Steve said. "Me and him, we both know what it's like to have some pretty bad dreams," he told her. "And it, well, it doesn't feel so good to talk about them." She shook her head in agreement. "But they kind of…They kind of lose their power if you do. It's not fun to do, but once you're done, it's like you've pulled it into the real world, and it's not as strong here."

She considered this. "Maybe," she allowed. "But I…I don't know how to say it all."

Steve thought about that for a minute. "What if you tried writing it down?" he suggested. She rolled her head up to look at him. "You don't have to be able to explain anything that way, but you're still getting it down and out of your head. Might be worth a shot."

"I could try that," she said thoughtfully.

They sat quietly for a few minutes before she spoke again. "I do remember one thing," she said softly. "You…When you got caught, and were all sick and stuff when you came home, that was Zwart too, wasn't it?"

Steve nodded.

"Did he…There was a song he would whistle. While he was getting the necklaces ready to put back on. It was…I don't know what song it was, but he would whistle it really clearly, and too slow to feel right, and it just felt…It's the scariest song I ever heard." She looked up at him sadly. "Did he do that with you?"

"Yeah," Steve breathed.

"You're an admirer of the arts, Captain," Zwart had said once, staring pensively into the glowing coals nestled in the brazier in front of him. "Music as well? Or just the visual arts?"

Steve had been teetering on the edge of consciousness, soaking wet after having a bucket of water thrown in his face and shivering in the cold stone room. He hadn't responded.

Zwart had started to whistle as he lifted a poker from the brazier, studying the glowing tip. "Chopin's Piano Sonata Number 2 in B Flat Minor," he'd explained after whistling a few bars. "The Funeral March. One of my favorites." Steve had been hearing that song since he got here. He didn't think he'd ever stop hearing it.

Zwart had resumed his whistling, strong and clear and just a beat too slow, adding a sinister note to an already ominous song. "One of the Polish Romanticists," Zwart had said. "Not one of our Aryan composers, and a Muggle, no less, but the heart loves what it loves, hm?" He'd kept whistling, but Steve had stopped listening, the red hot tip of the poker rolling down the side of his neck whiting his world out into agony and then merciful unawareness.

Steve swallowed hard and tugged Becky in closer to his side. "I know exactly the song you're talking about."

She sniffled. "I can't stop hearing it," she whispered. "It's always there when I go to sleep. That's why I can't sleep, I can't…" She swallowed down a sob. "I can't listen to it anymore!"

"Aw, Becky," he said sadly, leaning down and resting his head on the top of hers.

She rolled her head up to look at him and he sat back up, looking down into those wounded steel blue eyes. "Jay said," she began. "When you were helping him after Hydra took him, he said when he was scared, you would just hold on to him until he wasn't anymore." She swallowed down a knot in her throat. "Could you hold on to me for a while?" she asked in a shaky whisper.

Steve scooped her up into his lap, wrapping his arms around her as she curled up into a little ball and cradling her head against his chest. "I've got you now," he whispered, kissing the top of her head. She felt so small and fragile, and he blinked back the moisture pooling in his eyes. "I've got you."

They sat there for a long time. Becky didn't say anything, and neither did Steve—he just held on. He rocked her a little and hummed softly—the song his ma used to sing to him, and the song he used to sing to Becky during the air raids. Eventually, he could feel the tension start to drain out of her, and she nuzzled her head into his chest with a sleepy little sigh. He kept holding on, stroking his fingers through her hair, and when he looked down later, she was asleep, her head still over his heart and her fingers still clutching the front of his pajama shirt.

He smiled and stood up slowly, adjusting his grip on her to keep her balanced. He walked back down the hall, easing open the door to her room. Carefully, he pulled her blankets back and lowered her down onto the bed. "Ssh," he soothed, when she let out a tiny whimper when he let go. Down at the foot of the bed was Oliver, a large blue bear that was more patches than anything else now, and Steve pulled him over and placed him in her empty hands. Becky immediately pulled the bear in against her chest, snuggling contentedly into the threadbare patch on his head.

Steve smiled softly and pulled the blanket back up, tucking in girl and bear securely. He moved the lamp off of her bedside table, setting it on the floor behind it and turning it on. The table blocked most of the light, leaving a soft, warm glow that enveloped the room. Just enough light so that if she woke up, she would see the big soft chair in the corner with the Ravenclaw scarf flung over the top, the dollhouse in the other corner, the books stacked on every available surface, and the colorful rug on the floor—the things that she would recognize, that would tell her she was somewhere safe.

"Goodnight, Becky," he whispered, leaning down and resting a hand on her hair. "I love you, sweet little girl," he said, kissing her forehead gently. "Everything's going to be okay."

The next morning, he woke up a little bit before breakfast, so he returned to the living room and the book he'd left on the couch. He'd only made it through a page or two when Becky came shuffling in from her room, where she must have slept well enough to stay for the night.

"Morning," he greeted. "How you doing?"

"Okay," she said, wiping the last of the sleep from her eyes as she came towards the couch. She pushed Steve's arms out of her way and climbed up into his lap, shifting dramatically until she was comfortable and resting her head on his chest.

"Comfy?" Steve asked with a smile.

"Mm-hmm," she said. She dug around in the pocket of her bathrobe and pulled out a small notebook and a pencil. "You can keep on with your reading," she said. "I just wanted to listen."

"Listen to what?" he wondered.

"Your heart," she replied. "It kind of drowns out, you know…other stuff. It's a good sound."

"Okay," Steve said softly, emotion swelling up in his chest. He looped one arm around her, kissed the top of her head, and propped his book up on the arm of the couch. She curled up a little bit to balance her notebook on her knees and started writing in it, stopping and pausing every now and then to chew on the end of her pencil thoughtfully. They sat like that until Mrs. Barnes called them in for breakfast.

"Hey, I've got an idea," Bucky said as they were cleaning up the breakfast dishes.

"What's that?" Steve asked.

"It's been a while since we all did a story together," he said. He bumped Becky with his elbow. "Whatcha think, Munchkin? Wanna give it a try?"

She didn't answer for a minute, thoughtfully drying the plate in her hands. Steve and Bucky had been brainstorming the other night trying to come up with something that might cheer her up. She'd always enjoyed it when they read through and acted out a story together, and Bucky was right, it had been a while.

"Okay," she said. "That sounds nice. I just, I guess…I mean, if you're sure you want to."

"I wouldn't have offered if I didn't want to," he told her. "Why do you think I wouldn't want to?"

She shrugged. "No reason, you're just all grown up now and everything. You don't think it's a little kid thing to do?"

"I do not," he declared. "Besides, I'm seventeen, I'm not a senior citizen or anything."

Becky smiled, and Steve nudged her arm. "We can make him play all the old people."

Becky smiled wider and Bucky whipped him with a dishtowel. "If I'm old, so are you."

Steve dodged out of the way of the towel, darting into the living room. Becky was still smiling.

They read 'Treasure Island', digging up some old broken broom handles to use as swords. Becky just wanted to be the narrator—she usually claimed one of the main characters, but if she wasn't up for that much enthusiasm yet, well, getting back into normal life sometimes required smaller steps. Steve and Bucky divided up all the characters among themselves and launched into the story with gusto and exaggerated, truly awful pirate voices.

"You guys are terrible," Becky said, but it was making her smile, so they kept going.

There were a couple of broomstick sword fights, and they danced around the living room slashing at each other until Steve accidentally knocked over a lamp. Bucky was able to magically repair it, and they went a little more carefully after that.

At one point, due to a casting oversight, Bucky ended up in a brief sword fight against himself. Steve offered to take one of the characters, but Bucky waved him off. "No, no. I've got it."

He did take Steve's broom sword, and watching him do battle with himself was quite the spectacle. Steve leaned back against the couch to watch, enjoying himself. Bucky jumped and slashed around ridiculously for a while, eventually knocking himself over the back of Mr. Barnes' arm chair to defeat himself.

At this last, ludicrous action, Becky giggled, and Steve's head snapped around to look at her and Bucky popped up from behind the chair. They stared at her for a long second. That was the first time she'd laughed since they'd brought her home. Not wanting to draw attention to it and make her uncomfortable, they quickly resumed the story, but Steve couldn't stop himself from smiling, something warm and happy uncurling in his chest. He knew she would be okay, but seeing her come back, little bit by little bit, he really believed it now.

They spent the next couple of days working through the story. When they weren't doing that, they sat around and read or listened to the radio or talked. Becky was still pretty clingy—she usually liked to be touching one of them, if not flat-out wrapped around them in some capacity. She wrote a lot in her little notebook, working out her nightmares, and sometimes a troubled look would cross her face and she would jump up into the lap of whichever of them was closest and snuggle her head against their heart and close her eyes and just listen.

She was getting better, though, her natural cheery disposition slowly starting to reassert itself. She smiled more, and though she still didn't laugh easily, she did that more too, and she talked a little more freely. Becky was finding her way home.


Bucky woke up to a rush of cold air. Becky was standing next to his bed, shrugging off the blanket she'd walked down the hall in and lifting up the one on his bed to climb under it. "Hey, Munchkin," he mumbled sleepily. "Bad dream?"

"Yeah," she whispered, sitting down on the mattress and swinging her feet up.

"Get in here, then," he said, lifting up an arm for her to snuggle underneath. She laid down and he tugged the blanket back up over her. He was lying on his stomach, but she poked him in the ribs until he rolled over on his side. "Really bad one, huh?" he asked after she scooted and shifted until she had her head pressed up against his chest. A little while back, she'd started doing this thing where she would climb up into either his or Steve's lap—whichever one of them was closer to her—and just close her eyes and listen to their heartbeat for a while. Steve explained it to him later, telling Bucky what Becky had told him about the good sound drowning out Zwart's whistling. It hurt Bucky that that scared her so much, but he was glad it was something he could help with so easily.

"Yeah," she said again.

"I'm sorry," he said. He cinched his arm tighter around her and kissed the top of her head. "Go on back to sleep," he told her. "You're safe now. I gotcha." She hummed a little bit and nuzzled her head against him, breathing slow and even, and he patted her arm and shut his eyes again.

She was up before he was the next morning, though she'd left her blanket on the floor by his bed again. He picked it up and folded it, taking it back down to her room and listening to her talking with their ma in the kitchen. Her nightmares were starting to come a little farther apart. She still didn't like to talk about them, but it looked like writing them down in her little book was helping her feel better about them.

He looked at her contemplatively over breakfast as she spread grape jelly on her toast. She was very particular about her jelly—always had been. It had to be just the right thickness all the way across, and it had to come up to the edge of the bread without dripping over. He'd made her breakfast in bed once when she was sick, and she hadn't eaten the toast because he'd done the jelly wrong.

They'd been home for two weeks now—she'd been home for three—and Bucky was happy to see that she really was getting better. She smiled easily and laughed more now, and every day she was talking more, getting back to the chatterbox she usually was. There were still the nightmares, and she was still clingier than normal, but on the whole, she was getting back to normal, and Bucky was glad. It hurt his heart in ways he couldn't really put into words to see his little sister lost and hurting like she had been.

Now that she seemed like she was settling more, Bucky was thinking about the next step. Becky had been home for three weeks, and while she was doing much better around the house, she hadn't gone outside once yet since she got home. Bucky had brought it up last week and she'd gotten really upset, so he quickly backed down. He understood why she was afraid, of course, but he thought getting back out there would be good for her. It had really helped him, just moving and getting exercise and seeing sunlight, but it had also been good to see good, safe, normal things and people that didn't have anything to do with Hydra. He didn't want to push her too hard into something she wasn't ready for, but it might be time to try just a little nudge.

"So, I was thinking," Bucky said as they cleared up the dishes.

"On school break?" Steve asked in mock surprise. Becky giggled and Bucky threw an eggshell at him.

"Yes," he replied. He looked at Becky. "I know you weren't up for it earlier, but how would you feel about going outside today? Just for, like, a little walk or something?"

Becky's smile immediately vanished, and Bucky reached out and rested a hand on her shoulder.

"I know it's kind of a scary thought," he said. "And if you don't want to, I promise I won't make you." She seemed to relax a little at that. "But can I just say why I think we should try?"

"Alright," she said uncertainly.

Steve tactfully started making a lot of noise dumping the dishes into the sink, and Bucky looped his arm over Becky's shoulders and pulled her aside. "I spent a lot of time inside, after Steve brought me home, remember?"

She nodded.

"There was just something safe about being in the house. Outside, well, who knew what could happen?"

"Then why'd you sneak out?" she asked.

Bucky smiled at her suspicious tone, even as he blushed internally at the memory of why he'd done it. "Well, that's a long and messed up story for another time, and my head was in a weird place. But after that, you and Steve started taking me and going out for walks, remember?"

"Yeah."

"And that helped me. A lot more than I thought it would. It showed me that even though Hydra had tried to beat me down, I could get back up. I maybe couldn't go very fast or walk very far," he amended, and that got a little bit of a smile out of her. "But I was going, and the more I did, the easier it got. And it did me a lot of good to get out and see that the world wasn't all bad."

"I know it's not all bad," she protested.

"I know," he said. "So did I. But there's something different knowing it and seeing it. I went out and saw our neighborhood, the same place I've been living all my life, and it felt good to see it again. To see stuff that Hydra hadn't touched. It helped me feel a lot better. And I know you and me, we're different people, but we're also kind of the same, and I think it could help you too."

Becky only looked partially convinced.

"If you're not ready, then we'll do it some other day," he told her. "And if you think you might be ready, it's not like I'm gonna just kick you out the door or anything. I'll go with you. Steve too. Two big, tough guys like us around, nobody's gonna mess with you."

She smiled at that. "Alright," she said softly.

"You sure?" he asked. It was the answer he wanted, but he didn't want her to feel like he was pushing her.

"Uh huh," she said. "Just, you know, let's maybe not go too far?"

"Okay," he agreed, smiling proudly.

They finished the dishes and got dressed before heading outside. Bucky knew it would be good for Becky to get out, but he was glad for the chance too—aside from running a couple of errands for his ma, he'd been staying inside with Becky and was starting to feel a little bit of cabin fever. Going down the stairs was a little tricky with Becky wrapped around his torso, but she slid down onto her own two feet when they hit the ground. She wrapped one of her arms around one of Bucky's, reaching out with the other hand to cling to Steve, and they set off. They didn't really have any particular destination in mind, but Bucky thought they might try going to the park.

"Okay," he told her. "I know it sounds kind of silly, but while we're walking, think about what you can see and hear and smell and try to find as many good things as you can."

She looked up at him skeptically. "That does sound kind of silly."

He smiled back. "Just try it?"

She sighed dramatically. "Alright." They walked on for a minute. "Well," she said, in a voice that said she was clearly humoring him. "I can smell the bread from the bakery. That smells nice. And it's cold, but I guess the sunshine feels good." Bucky hadn't actually meant that she needed to list everything out loud, but if that was how she wanted to do it, okay. Steve caught his eye over the top of Becky's head and smiled at her dramatically resigned tone.

She kept listing things as they walked, sounding like she was starting to put a little more thought into it, and not just doing it to make him happy. She didn't let go of either him or Steve, though her grip loosened into something more relaxed. They walked around one of the trails in the park and sat on a bench for a little while watching people skating on the pond. A vendor with a cart came by, and Becky shifted closer into Bucky's side a little nervously when Steve let go of her hand and got up, though she perked up considerably when he came back from the vendor with hot roasted peanuts for the three of them.

They went home and had lunch, then collected and folded up the laundry and relaxed for a little while before it was time to make dinner. "Hey, Jay?" Becky said.

"Yeah?" he asked, turning around. He was reading a book, and she had propped herself against his back to knit. Steve was lying on the floor drawing something.

She blushed a little bit, but she smiled. "Thanks for making me go outside today. You were right, it was good to see just…good stuff."

He smiled back and ruffled her hair. "I'm glad. See? Your big brother knows a thing or two."

She rolled her eyes, still smiling. "You think you're so smart."

"I am so smart," he replied. She shoved him and grinned and returned to her knitting.

Things improved rapidly over the next several days, as though getting out into the world had been the last missing piece of the puzzle. She was still a little clingy, especially when she was sleepy, but on the whole, her confidence seemed to be restored, and Bucky was glad. He was proud of her too, knowing what she was fighting against. It took more than Hydra to keep a Barnes down.


See? A nice soft chapter without even any sinister cliffhangers or anything.

Hope you enjoyed.