This is an OC/Bucky ship, start to finish.

One little note: The story cover art is my own drawing.

With love, Dubs

Maggie Hargrove grew up fighting along side best friends Steve Rogers and Bucky Barnes. He always inspired her to be better than she was, so when the war started, she signed up and got a position in the Army Nurses Corps. The problem is when you're good at helping people die in peace, they start to call you names. And that's where Captain America came in.

October 1943 – England

Since her return letter to Bucky in May, Maggie hadn't heard anything from him. It had been almost two months since she last saw Steve and had received no word from him either. She tried not to imagine the worst but every night her dreams were filled with gruesome images of the two of them coming through the hospital doors and her having to be at their sides while she could do nothing to help. Sleep had become her enemy.

Air raid sirens blared outside as Maggie sat in the breakroom of the hospital floor. In the distance she heard the bombs exploding onto the city. Her body felt heavy as if it wasn't her own any longer and she looked at the coffee in her hand. She heard whispers across the room from the other nurses and she assumed they were talking about her, but she paid no heed. Whatever Steve said to them in August had kept them away from her and truly was grateful for the reprieve.

The door to the floor opened, although Maggie paid no attention to it. Doctor Samuels walked in and began looking around until his eyes landed on her. He smiled for a moment, then taking in her appearance, sighed. He walked over and sat beside her, holding out his hand to show her three envelopes. She looked at them, then met his eyes.

"These came for you today," he said, his English accent lilted and helped soothe her nerves, "looks like you have one from the Army as well."

She furrowed her brows in confusion as she looked back down at the letters. The one on top was from the U.S. Government. Her heart sank for a moment, fearing the worst, but she took a breath to relax. Logically, she wouldn't be the one to get letters about Bucky dying. Maybe Steve, but even that was unlikely. Still, she nervously unsealed the letter and read through it quickly. After she finished, she read it again.

"France?" she questioned aloud before looking up at the Gabe. He moved closer to look at the letter over her shoulder.

"So, you've been reassigned," he said, "when do you leave?"

"Tomorrow," she said looking back at the paper once more.

"Sounds like you have to get ready," he said patting her knee, "I'm going to miss you around here."

"You would be the only one," she stated her eyes flitting to the other nurses before going back to him. He followed her looks and turned back to her with a shrug.

"They'll certainly miss you when they realize what you do," he replied, "I'm glad you're leaving here. You need to get out of this God forsaken hospital ward."

"Thank you," she said softly as she folded the letter and put it back in the envelope. She looked at the second envelope and smiled seeing Steve's handwriting. As she opened the letter, she smiled at the short message:

'It took a while, but I told you I'd do what I could. I hope you don't mind; I came up with a better phrase for you. Until our tomorrows are no more. See you in Paris, Second Lieutenant Hargrove.

-Steve'

"Is that your husband?" Gabe asked reading over her shoulder and let out a quiet laugh.

"As much as we get asked that, you would think so but, no. He's as close as I have to family anymore and I to him. I'm not married, yet," she replied as she folded the note and put it back in the envelope, she went to the last one which was thick, clearly full of paper inside. On the outside it was addressed to 'Second Lieutenant, Miss Margaret Hargrove' and in parenthesis next to her name were the words, 'the future Mrs. Barnes'. She couldn't help the smile it brought to her face. He saw her face light up and took it as his cue to go.

"I'll leave you be," he said patting her knee once more before standing and leaving the room. She read through the letters—there were multiples packed inside the one envelope—and laughed at his giddy ramblings about their future wedding.

He had it all planned out. They would get married in up-state New York and for their honeymoon they would travel to Ireland—he had an Irish born friend in his unit that constantly spoke of the beautiful rolling hills and lands as if they were a mystical place. He said it reminded him of the Hobbit.

In his letters he hardly spoke about what he was doing on the front, instead writing about memories he had of the two of them or the two of them plus Steve. She smiled sadly at the memories. He was trying to distract himself from what he saw every day. These letters were his little slice of heaven.

She sighed and folded the letters back up, but her attention was captured by the return address. He was in Italy. Her heart began rapidly beating, it had only a couple months since the Allied Forces had taken Sicily and Maggie had heard the soldiers on the frontlines had been rapidly taking the land from Mussolini's control. Still, she supposed Bucky had been there for the liberation and part of her was proud of him, and the other part terrified. What if the letters were old, and he was actually dead somewhere in Sicily?

She looked at the letters again, and frantically searched he dates. The last one was just under a month old. A slight sense of relief helped her breath again. She tried to give herself happier thoughts and wondered if by joining Steve she would cross paths with Bucky. The thoughts took no time to go dark again.

What if they got to his unit and Bucky wasn't there? She tried to calm herself. He was Bucky, he was too stubborn to be anything but fine. 'In fact,' she told herself, 'he'll be there and when I tell him about my fears, he'll laugh and tell me that he's not that unlucky.' Even still, no matter how much she tried to convince herself he would be fine, the 'what if?' remained in the back of her mind.

That night Maggie went back to her flat and packed up her things. She tried to sleep, but sleep wouldn't come to her. Eventually she got up, she drank some coffee, and waited until she needed to leave for her flight. Maggie fidgeted with the cigar box as she sat at her kitchen table. It was much fuller than when she had placed the ring from Bucky in it simply overnight back in May. She had quit counting how many were in there, but she knew there were too many. Almost every set was someone who had begged her to talk to their family.

Maggie opened the box and sighed, looking at the pieces of tin. She could remember all their faces, all their voices…

She hoped that by leaving the hospital she wouldn't be collecting anymore tags and wouldn't need the cigar box, that she could just leave them in a safe-deposit box at a local bank. But as she stared down at the box she knew that she would never be able to sleep at night if she didn't take them with her. Something could happen to them and she would leave her promises to the dead unfulfilled…

She covered the tags with her linen handkerchief—which was only getting dirtier and dirtier—and closed the box. Without another ounce of hesitation, she unpacked her bag halfway, placed the box in the middle and then surrounded it with the rest of the things she would be taking with her.

She hoped beyond hope that she wouldn't add anymore to the box, but she already knew there would be less space inside it by the time the war ended.