Chapter One
Piercing gray eyes stared back at me as I gazed at the mirror. My black hair was a mess, but it wasn't anything a quick brush couldn't fix. Or spell if I'm in a hurry (or too lazy). But being a servant 600 years ago, I always woke at the crack of dawn, therefore, I wasn't always in a hurry. Old habits die hard. Then again, I'm still technically a servant to Morgana and the others. So is Merlin.
Work didn't start until eight, and that was still a few hours away. Mordred was up as well, also being used to waking up early. He was in his room, reading. We managed to secure a little apartment for the two of us. We posed as siblings (me being the elder sister) and we found work with a scientist named Dr. Abraham Erskine. Mordred was helping him stabilize a serum he had developed, while I was sent out to find the perfect candidate.
We met Dr. Erskine when we first arrived. We had broken into a top security building (the technology was no match against our magic) and made it all the way to the laboratory before they noticed anything amiss.
After much persuasion (and a bit of magic) we managed to prove that we were not the enemy. Of course, they immediately wanted us to fight; having magic as powerful as ours would be a great asset for the war. Naturally, we refused. After all, we were persuaded by our superior (aka Gaius) not to fight. And if we had no choice but to fight, we would do so with minimal to no magic. We can fight well enough without it.
"What's for breakfast?" Mordred called out, pulling me from my thoughts.
"The usual," I replied, quickly brushing my hair and pulling it into a ponytail. "It's not like I can make anything else with these rations. Good food is scarce in wartime."
"Well, at least you and Merlin can make an excellent meal out of anything," Mordred commented as I walked into the kitchen, "including rats and insects."
I laughed with him at the mention of that. In the past, on very few occasions, we had to make do with eating rat and other small rodents, along with various types of insects. Not the best meal ever, but it was all we had.
"Well, hopefully we won't be doing that again for a long time," I said, pulling out the ingredients for breakfast. While I cooked, Mordred brewed us some herbal tea. We had tried what they call coffee, but it had no appeal to us, not even with various amounts of milk and/or sugar. The herbal tea was what we drank when we decided to live in China for a century, and we loved it. That happened long before the British colonized Asia.
When the clock neared eight, I got up and made my way to the recruitment center part of the hospital. I worked there as a nurse, handling the physicals and once in a while, patched up some wounds. Mordred was headed off to the lab that Dr. Erskine worked at (the one we broke into).
The day was filled with boys and men wanting to become soldiers. Many of them tried flirting with me, but much to their surprise, I brushed them all off. Thank the stars that I'm used to similar behavior from Gwaine, though he was much more charming and polite. These 'soldiers' had little to no respect; they were worse than Arthur was on his bad days!
I picked up the next folder in my pile, rolling my eyes at the flirty soldiers and unimpressed nurses. I opened the file and skimmed through the paper. My eyes stopped at the picture. The boy was skinny, more so than Merlin was, but that wasn't what caught my attention.
Right between his right collarbone and shoulder was a small black marking. It looked a lot like a druid marking, but I had to see it myself to make sure. If it was a druid mark, then there was the likelihood that he could be the one we were looking for. Our brother.
"Rogers, Steven Grant," I called out. A man, looking hardly out of his boyhood, stood up and approached me. He was thinner in person; I could count each of his ribs, his bony shoulders jutted out, and he looked like a friendly punch could take him out. He had straw blond hair and sky blue eyes. And there it was, clear as day: the druid mark.
"Follow me," I said when he finally made his way to me. I led him to the exam room that I worked in. He clambered up on the exam table as I quickly washed my hands.
"So, tell me, Mr. Rogers," I began. I was curious to know more about this boy who was daring enough to try to sign up for the war despite being at a clear disadvantage. "What makes you so eager to join the bloodshed?"
He looked surprised. It was most likely from the way I worded my question. But that is was war is- bloodshed. And lots of it.
"Don't look so surprised. No matter what fanciful words they use in order to make war seem appealing, it is always the same," I said, leaning against the counter and crossing my arms. "People die in the most bloodiest of ways. Wives lose their husbands; children, their fathers. Mothers lose their sons, sisters lose their brothers."
"But we have to stop the tyranny Hitler made," Steve interrupted. "We have to bring back peace." I quirked an eyebrow, waiting for him to continue.
"Hitler and his Nazis are nothing but bullies. I hate bullies. Just because we are born under a different religion doesn't change the fact that we are human. Hitler doesn't get that, and he hurts people who are different. He's nothing but a big bully."
"An interesting way to put it," I said with a smirk. "But you are right, of course. Many people tend to forget that no matter what we look like, what religion we have, or anything else; we are all human in the end."
Steve blushed and rubbed a hand through his hair. "What does that have to do with the exam?"
"Nothing," I replied. "I am sorry to say this, but even though you have a noble cause and a good heart, it does not change the fact that it looks like the wind could knock you over. Not to mention," I went on, picking up the file, "it seems you have- and have had- a number of ailments that could hinder you as a soldier. I'm partially surprised that you are still alive."
Steve let out a frustrated sigh. I set the file down and gave him a sympathetic look.
"However, I do think you are a good candidate for something else, but it is not my place to explain it. Go to the Stark Expo. When you get to the sign up, ask for Rexanne Cooper. That's me by the way, hello. From there, I'll introduce to the one who will be able to help you further."
Blue eyes stared quizzically at me. "If you are so against war, why do you aid in it?"
I smiled grimly. "Sometimes, as much as it disgusts me, war is necessary to move forward. To tear down the old, and build up the new."
Steve nodded, understanding. He slid off the exam table and walked out of the room.
"See you, I guess," he said, before departing.
"Until our paths cross again, brother," I said, whispering the last bit.
It wasn't until Steve was half-way home did he realize a few things: First off, he spoke to a beautiful girl without making a fool of himself. Second, that same girl seemed unnervingly familiar. For some reason, she reminded him of his mother. In knowing her for only a few minutes, he realized she had the same style of speaking, same mannerisms, even her face was similar to that of his mother's. Could she be his long lost sister?
No, she couldn't be. The girl was too young, too beautiful. She was healthy and fit, whereas he was small, skinny, and had a whole bunch of health issues. How can someone like her be his sister? Let alone look like she's hardly over the age of twenty, despite being centuries old?
Shaking the thoughts from his head, Steve made his way into his flat. Only to be met with a slight surprise.
Bucky sat on his couch, with Steve's mother's letter in hand. Steve didn't know what to feel: horrified that his best friend found his secret before he could understand it? Scared that Bucky would see his family and leave (although that one did seem ridiculous)? Or relieved, knowing that Bucky would help him, like he always had.
Hearing the door close, Bucky glanced up and grinned at Steve.
"Hey, Steve! How come you never told me about this?" he asked, waving the letter for emphasis. "You have a big brother and a big sister!"
"Yeah, well, I didn't know how to tell you. Not to mention, I don't quite understand myself," Steve replied, rubbing the back of his neck.
"So, have you found them yet?" the taller of the duo asked, still grinning.
"I think I might have found my sister…." Steve replied, sitting down in an armchair.
"Oh, what is she like? Small and skinny like you?" Bucky asked. "Or an old lady? It says she is centuries old."
"No. She's gorgeous," Steve confessed. "Just as tall as me, long black hair, gray eyes. She's such a beautiful dame, I was surprised I was able to talk to her without making a fool of myself. Though she did act and talk the same way as mom did…"
"Sounds like you might have a crush on your own sister," Bucky teased. "Think you'd see her again?"
"She said to meet her at the Stark Expo."
"What's her name then? Tell me you at least got her name."
"Rexanne Cooper."
"Rexanne? Well, we better make sure we get you a date for the Expo. Don't want you to be the only punk without one," Bucky said, eyes glimmering mischievously. "And when you go and meet her, take me with you. I'd like to meet this dame. See if she really is as gorgeous as you say she is."
"Sure, but don't go falling in love with my sister. She's out of bounds for you," Steve threatened lightly.
Bucky laughed. "I won't, don't worry yourself, little punk."
"Jerk," Steve muttered, but smiled slightly. He was glad to have someone like Bucky at his side. Even if he is leaving shortly, to fight in the war.
