Disclaimer: I own nothing.

Chapter 2

June 6, 2012 – Manhattan, New York – Stark Tower

Darcy's body ached.

The wound on her hip was almost completely healed, but she'd leapt out of her hospital bed like it was on fire.

She was sure that Clint was probably getting coffee – there was no way he'd leave her alone for anything less – and Steve was either still in D.C. or grabbing a quick shower. But for both of them to be gone when she woke up? Jackpot.

"JARVIS? Can you tell me where Bucky is?" She whispered, staring at the ceiling with baited breath.

"Sergeant Barnes is being held in Dr. Banner's containment unit. Currently, Sir is with him. Would you like me to alert him that you are on your way?"

She shuffled into the pair of leggings that were left at the bottom of her bed and a black tank top with a chunky sweater, grateful that someone had the foresight to bring her clothes. She'd have to go barefoot, though.

"Actually, J-Man, I think Steve needed to talk to Tony about overseeing the reconstruction on the landing pad. Mind getting him?"

"Of course, Ms. Lewis."

It wasn't difficult to slip out of the medical bay unnoticed. She half expected to run into Natasha, but the coast was uncomfortably clear. No hidden Black Widow, no Clint dropping from a vent to spoil her plan, nothing.

The entire tower seemed quieter for some reason. So quiet that Darcy could almost hear the soft sound of her feet trailing along the tile.

When the door slid open, she slipped inside, noting in relief that Tony was already gone. Her blue eyes found Bucky's form in the glass room and she whispered once more. "Jay? Privacy protocols, please. And…make sure no one can get in without my permission. Code Alpha – nine – four – two."

"Granted, Ms. Lewis."

There was a telltale dimming of the lights as she allowed her feet to carry her to the solid wall of glass. He still hadn't made a move to let her know that he knew he wasn't alone. It freaked her out how he held his body. It was…different than what she remembered.

"Bucky?"

The brunet blinked and looked away from the opposite wall, his attention completely on her. It was unnerving.

"Darcy." His smile was large and overdone and it reminded her of when he accidently ripped one of her favorite blouses when he got too excited one night.

She found herself nodding. "Yeah. I'm Darcy. Do you remember me, Buck?"

The skin between his brows puckered. "I know that you're mine. I know…I know that you're like me, too. It comes and goes, but sometimes I remember everything. Other moments…it's gone like it was never there."

Her hip was beginning to ache and she grimaced as she sat down on the cold floor, surprised when he did the same on the other side of the glass. A half smile tugged at her lips. "My memories are like that, too. I started keeping a journal to help me, but sometimes things just don't stick." A shaky breath slipped past her lips. "I remember Russia. The bad parts, I think. But I'm not sure if there were any good parts to even remember. You were Soldat. I was…Sirena."

"Sirena…that…we were together, weren't we?"

Darcy swiped at the tears under her eyes. "Yeah, Buck. Almost always – "

"I meant in Russia."

"We…we worked together for the KGB, for HYDRA. Do you remember any of that?" She asked.

Bucky seemed to struggle for a moment. His eyes flashed from blue to grey repeatedly and she could hear the metal in his arm making odd sounds. "I was a weapon. I am a weapon. An asset. They'll come for me."

"And I won't let them take you," she said vehemently. She got up onto her knees and placed both of her hands flat against the glass. "I'll fight tooth and nail to keep you here with us. I'm not going to lose you, Bucky."

His eyelashes fluttered as he placed his flesh hand against the glass, opposite of where hers was. "And what if they take you, too? What will stop them?"

Darcy looked down at the band aids covering her wrist and methodically peeled them off, revealing her words. "You see these?" At his nod, she continued, "I'm betting that we match. That underneath all that HYDRA did to us, we're still Darcy and Bucky from Brooklyn, New York. That we'd still do anything for each other."

Is this how Steve felt? Did it kill him the same way it killed her to see Bucky not remember their lives? All the hidden smiles, the experiences…all the love just gone.

"Please don't cry, doll."

She ran her sleeve across her face angrily.

Doll.

"It's going to be okay, Bucky. I promise."

It was nearly midnight when Steve managed to find her.

Darcy's privacy protocols had worn off and JARVIS had alerted him of her location – after a near tower-wide sized panic.

However, he wasn't prepared to be on the outside looking in as it was.

"Bucky?"

The brunet man was sitting cross-legged on the opposite side of the glass, watching Darcy with such a fascination that it left Steve both breathless and apprehensive.

How the hell were his two best friends sitting in front of him? How could fate be on his side in such a way? Was it to make up for him landing a plane in the ocean?

His best friend that he watched fall from the train in 1944 was literally in front of him with the girl that he thought had died in a bombing in 1941.

Bucky's hair had grown, it was nearly to his shoulders, and his face was hard like Darcy's was. Haunted. But the looks didn't matter when he saw the metal gleaming where his left arm should be, painted with a bright red star across the bicep. It twitched slightly and the sound of it recalibrating could be heard through the glass.

Shock kept him upright when he was sure that he was going to crumple. His life was turning out to be like one of those science fiction books he used to read.

"She's beautiful, y'know."

The blond nodded, properly shaken from his reverie as he watched how the other man sized him up. "She is."

"You know me."

It wasn't a question and Steve didn't think that he was really looking for an answer so he settled for nodding again.

"You remind me of someone. I got these memories up here," he tapped his temple lightly and let out a self-deprecating laugh, "But they don't really make sense. Not yet. She – Darcy – helped talk me through some of them, helped me make a timeline in my head, but I'm not sure I'll ever get it."

"M'name's Steve," he said. "We used to be best friends. You saved me from getting my ass handed to me more times than I can count."

Bucky snorted. "Must not've done that good in school, huh?"

"Jerk."

"Punk." It had slipped from his mouth before he could stop it. It seemed natural and it was uncomfortable on his tongue. He cleared his throat. "You lookin' for her?"

The side of Steve's mouth quirked up. "She made a run for it from the med bay. Been missin' for a few hours."

"She okay? I…I'm the reason she was there."

"She seems to be. She just fall asleep?"

Bucky nodded. "Talked herself out. I forgot how much our girl could talk. Used to get her in trouble – I'm sorry. Those aren't – "

"Those are your memories just as much as they're ours. Darcy's always been a chatterbox. That's why she needed two of us. Needed someone to keep up with her, Buck."

"Didn't hurt that she was a looker, either."

"No, that didn't hurt anything."

There was a beat of silence between them and Steve glanced down at the passed out Darcy, noting that she had found the clothes Clint had brought for her. It miffed him that most of the things she owned where threadbare and on their last leg, but he'd never tell her that she didn't pull of the homeless chic look. Truthfully, thin leggings were becoming his best friend since he wasn't able to get her near as naked as he wanted.

"You takin' care of her?"

"I'm tryin' to. I was never any good at it like you were, Buck. You always knew when she needed something, even before she did." Steve sighed, deciding to take a seat on the ground next to Darcy and pull her into his lap to help her avoid the crick in her neck that he know she'd have when she woke up. Her arms wound around his neck as he urged her legs around his waist so he was holding her like a small child with her face buried against his neck. "She tell you about her own memories? I thought so. She's workin' through everything, too. It's…hard. But she'll never give up. HYDRA had her for a long time, y'know? She won't let them win."

"D'you…do you think I could get a pen and paper? I…I want to write down everything that I talked to her about." Bucky looked vulnerable and Steve had never seen him be so unsure about himself. He was a cocky hoodlum from Brooklyn.

"I can get it for you. And see about gettin' you some better accommodations. I know Darce will have something to say about this containment unit."

Steve flawlessly stood with his arms full of Darcy, carefully grabbing one of Bruce's pads of paper and a pen and pushing it into the unit. He watched as Bucky instantly got to work and his heart hurt for everything they'd all lost.

"I'll see ya tomorrow, Buck."

"I won't let them win, either, y'know."

Steve turned back around and gave him an questioning look.

"HYDRA," Bucky elaborated. "Darcy won't let them win. And neither will I."

June 7, 2012 – Manhattan, New York – Stark Tower

"You're taking an interest in her."

Tony's hand stilled as his eyes swept up to the doorway of his lab. "Can I help you, Romanoff?"

The redhead pushed off of the wall and sauntered towards him. Head cocked slightly as she took him in. "Darcy. You've been accessing her files often. Something you're looking for?"

The screwdriver clattered to the table as he sighed. "Barton told you, I'm guessing. It's not like he's capable of keeping his mouth shut anyway."

"He told me that you thought Darcy is your daughter."

"Bingo." He scratched his chin after taking off his welding mask. "JARVIS originally only ran for normal relations, sibling and so on. But the serum contaminates her blood, too. She's still reading as my daughter. All the evidence is there – "

Natasha gracefully leapt onto the table, sitting daintily as she assessed his words. "Darcy was born in 1917. A combination of the serum and being a…prisoner of war, for lack of a better phrase, has kept her looking identical to when she was injected. Bruce is aware of the situation and Clint didn't feel like it was his place to tell you about her. But, rest assured, Darcy is not your daughter. Even if that's what the results are telling you."

Tony nodded, but she could tell that he wasn't really listening. "Yeah. Loud and clear, agent."

June 7, 2012 – Manhattan, New York – Stark Tower

Darcy woke up swaddled in enough blankets to keep her nice and toasty. Her brain was still a bit fuzzy, but she managed to shake it out. The serum was doing its damndest to repair what her body had been through.

"Darce, do you want pancakes or waffles?"

Opening her eyes, she realized that she was swaddled in Clint's bed. A mental shrug later and she was sitting up and rubbing her sleepy face. "Are you making them or Talia?"

"I can cook just fine – " her glare made his voice break and he mumbled, "Nat made some pancakes before she took off for a briefing."

She hummed in appreciation. "Pancakes it is."

It wasn't long until she meandered into the kitchen and nearly lunged at a cup of coffee that Clint had been fixing for himself. Her growl cut off his whine of protest before she drank it down, savoring the scalding liquid.

"We're gonna have to talk about the elephant in the room."

Blue met green wearily and she sighed. "Yeah. Well, obviously Steve's not mad at me because he brought me here and Ja-Bucky us trying to figure out the HYDRA bullshit, so I figure it can't be too bad, y'know?"

Clint set down the coffee pot – that he's been drinking out of like an uncultured swine – and sat ramrod straight. His voice was stilted like he'd rehearsed what he was about to say. "The Winter Soldier is no joke, Darcy. He's responsible to countless murders – "

"And I'm not?" She screeched back, jumping up so fast that she spilt her coffee in her lap. Ignoring the pain, she snapped, "He was trained just like me! I'm not normal, Clint. I never will be." Her voice cracked pathetically. "Finding them both nearly seventy years later…fate had something planned for us. Sometimes…sometimes I think it would've been easier if I had fallen in love with you. If I didn't remember the past."

"Darcy…" He was at a loss for words. Did he want that? He had before. Now, he was so much older, so different.

"It's all just so fucked up. I love Steve and I love Bucky, but that Darcy is gone." She shook her head and swiped the tears from her cheek. "Going to Russia was the worst thing that ever happened to me."

Pity party aside, Darcy was feeling a little bit better after Clint had consoled her. She ventured to the containment unit to catch a glimpse of her brunet lover, becoming disgruntled when he wasn't there.

"Jay, where's Bucky?"

"Sergeant Barnes has been moved into a space on the Captain's floor as per orders from Sir."

She shuffled her feet. "How is he?"

"Sergeant Barnes is adjusting with the help of literature. He has also requested your file."

"He can have access – "

"Excuse me for interrupting, but he has already acquired it. Sir is busy rebuilding the fire walls now."

Darcy couldn't help the small giggled that bubbled out of her mouth. He'd always been such a little shit.

"Ms. Lewis? Sir has also requested you meet with him in the penthouse at five o'clock."

"Got it, J-Man. Thanks."

"You shouldn't be reading that."

Bucky sighed and shut the browser. "She wouldn't mind. She's always – "

"Things have changed, Buck. She's not the same girl you remember."

Hours of talking and getting Bucky adjusted to his new accommodations had been easy. Apparently, seeing Darcy and having her recognize him as James Barnes and not the Asset had done wonders with reconnecting parts of his brain that had been short circuiting. Tony was sure he could fix his mind, too. Once he had a handle on everything, that was.

Steve knew it was a bad idea to move Bucky without his girl's permission, but he couldn't stand seeing him where he was. Besides, he didn't seem like he was all that dangerous – nevermind that he put her in the hospital for a few days, that was the Asset, after all – and he deserved basic comforts. A shower never hurt anyone.

It was strange having his best friend back. But he was also more than eager to hear about what had happened while they'd all been separated. Darcy was a closed book for the most part, keeping things in until they were pried out, but Bucky was eager to share whatever he had. He wrote it down methodically, somehow managed to search for it on the internet, too. ("Must be something from HYDRA, I don't know nothin' about security breaches.)

"Well, seein' as I don't remember much, it wouldn't be a problem." The assassin shrugged. "I've got to figure out these HYDRA memories and Stark thinks he can flush the programming. I don't know if my memories will come back. They're so muddled as it is. I remember her dress from the surprise party you threw for her. How good she felt when I was inside her for the first time. How beautiful she looked with her belly swollen with my seed – "

Steve jerked away from the small desk, nearly making the laptop fly off because his chair was caught in the cord.

"Steve – "

"Darcy was never pregnant, Bucky," the blond bit out. He smoothed his palms against the rough denim of his jeans in a semblance of control as he stood. "She went away and her stomach was flat as could be. I know. I know because I tried like hell to get her pregnant before she left."

"Soldat. Stand down."

"Ve ne mozhete vzyat' yeye."

His handler approached him with caution, his hands held up in surrender. "We don't wish to take Sirena. She needs to go to medical. There is an…unforeseen issue."

Soldat's hand wound around her waist from behind, feeling the small nudging that he'd been protecting for the past few months. His blue eyes were feral as he backed the both of them into the corner. His eyes looked wildly for an escape.

"Zhelaniye."

Soldat jerked, cramming himself tighter into the corner, squishing Sirena in the process. "No! NO!"

"Rzhavvy. Semnadsat. Rassvet. Pech. Nin."

Sirena whimpered, her hand clutching his side. "James."

He roared, charging at the men as his handler rattled off his trigger words.

"Gruzovoy avtomobil."

Soldat stood stock still, staring blankly ahead. His hands were at his sides, covered in blood from the men that had threatened his Sirena. His detka.

"Soldat. Return to the morozilka."

Blue eyes shifted to grey and Bucky shook his head slowly. "No…Sirena…she was pregnant. She was carrying my child and…they took her away!"

"Bucky, calm down!"

Steve's words fell on deaf ears as Bucky practically tore the door off its hinges and barreled for the emergency stairs.

"Bucky!"

"Find your boy toys?"

Darcy had become immune to having Clint drop from unsuspecting vents. Looking up from the files she had spread across the kitchen counter, she shrugged a single shoulder. "They need some boy time. Bucky needs to work through a few things. Hell, when I woke up, I was in a hospital and they claimed I had amnesia. At least he's getting all the right info the first time."

Clint hummed noncommittally, glancing over her shoulder at the files. "Those are SHIELD files."

"Yes."

"And…"

"I hacked Fury's profile and used his clearance to get everything possible on the Winter Soldier," she explained with disinterest. "Already patched it back up, he won't even know."

"You're scary efficient."

"Have to be – what the hell is that?"

Yelling could be heard from outside the lounge and she cursed as she got up, closing the files.

The door was flung open with such forced that she stumbled backwards before a strong pair of hands held her hips in a death grip. His smell assaulted her next and she struggled. "B-Buck? What's wrong?"

"They took you."

His face made its way against her neck and she melted. One arm went around his broad shoulder and the other threaded in his hair. "I'm right here. Everything's fine – "

"They took you. And the detka." His hands went to her stomach questioningly and all the blood drained from her face.

"It's a miracle she carried the child this far, Mr. Pierce."

Her handler glanced at her, disgust on his face. "She cannot carry a child to term?"

The doctor reviewed the chart that was handed to him by his assistant. He clicked his tongue and sighed. "The strain of serum that she was injected with leaves her body in stasis. Her body doesn't change, therefore accommodating a child is out of the question."

"Is there a way to alter the serum that she received?"

"Not without possibly killing her. I – ah – believe she is most valuable as she is."

Sirena cringed. Her stomach had been flat when she awoke and that meant her child was gone. Her handler scowled at her and she ducked her head.

"Darcy!"

"It wasn't viable – "

"But she's okay, right? There weren't any complications?"

"The only complications comes from her strain of the serum," Bruce said, pushing his glasses up his nose as he studied Darcy's chart in front of him. "You and Sergeant Barnes at least seem to be aging, however, you were both preserved in ice, generally speaking. Darcy isn't aging. She's stayed physically eighteen since 1935."

Steve swallowed roughly, looking down at his girl in the hospital bed. She'd collapsed with little fanfare, having Bucky follow her down not even a moment later. He was so used to being the sick one, needing to be taken care of. It was odd to be taking care of the strongest people he knew.

"I'm trying to take apart the serum, see if we can at least get her clock ticking – "

"What if we can share her serum? Recreate it?"

Bruce looked at him wearily. "Hypothetically, you'd never die."

"Or age. I'd never have to leave her again."

The scientist shook his head. "It's risky. We'd have to dissect her serum and build it back up again. Trial and error. I need time."

The blond sighed heavily as he nodded. "Don't tell her about this. If Bucky was right about his memories…then I don't want her to be put through it again."

"I, uh, inserted the implant when I took her blood," he said, scratching the back of his neck uncomfortably. "You can, ah, resume normal activities. Without risking another issue like this one."

Steve blushed down to the roots of his hair. "That shouldn't be a problem. We're not really there at this point."

"Tell that to what just happened."

There was some shuffling as Bruce gathered his papers and beckoned Steve to follow. "Let's go check on Sergeant Barnes. I need a few blood samples, anyway."

Tony hummed as he flipped through his daughter's chart, intent of studying her. Her blood was swarming with a strain of his father's serum that he'd never seen before.

He'd barely listened to what Natasha had said. There was no way that Darcy had been born in 1917. Blood didn't lie and every test was pointing to him being her biological father.

Clint claimed that she was older, too, but Culver had her down as a freshman – graduated early – and she now held her degree in political science. Which pissed him off even more; his progeny could do much better than that.

He'd waited until Captain Sparkles had cleared out to check on the Russian assassin before slipping into the hospital room. It was ridiculous how much she favored him. Same hair and skin, same snark and wit. It was a wonder that no one else had seen it yet.

"Tony?"

He stilled and noticed that her eyes were open, staring at him curiously. "Hey, pumpkin. How're you feeling?"

Darcy blinked tiredly. "I'm okay. What happened? Is Bucky okay?"

He rubbed his beard absently, noting that he needed to shave after his science bender. "Doc said it was information overload. Too many memories all at once. Your mind needed to adjust without the rest of you freaking out."

A sad look flitted across her face as Tony watched her come to terms with everything. He handed her a box of tissues when the waterworks started and he was thankful he'd missed her puberty. A rack like that and confused emotions? No thank you.

"Do you want me to get Steve?" He asked once she'd calmed down a little.

"Captain Rogers is currently with Sergeant Barnes speaking to Mr. Wilson."

"Thank you, JARVIS," Tony nodded. "So – ""

Darcy was already getting up, carefully pulling the needle from her arm and swinging her feet over the side of the bed. "I'd rather just go back to…"

"Barton's? Cap's?"

"I…"

"I had a suite made up for you. Even had Barton bring up a few of your things," the brunet shrugged. "Part of the penthouse – "

"That's your home, Tony."

He shrugged again, feigning nonchalance. "Running out of room. Besides, you won't spend a lot of time there. Between the boys, you'll hardly be around." He paused. "Think of it as a getaway."

"Your trigger words are going to keep you hostage. Now, Darcy's working with Natasha to fix hers – and it's going well – and you should probably do the same."

Sam Wilson was not what Bucky imagined. A stuffy white coat, maybe, glasses pushed down his nose. But definitely not a thin, dark man with a kind face.

"Why can't I work with Natasha?" The brunet grumped.

Steve sighed. "It's a conflict of interest, Buck. You used to be her handler in Russia."

He blinked. "I don't…I shot her, didn't I?"

"Without so much as a glance."

"But not Darcy?"

The blond smiled. "Our girl pulled you out of it. You protected her against one of HYDRA's men. You knew her despite everything."

Sam nodded. "Maybe we should start there."

"It was Brooklyn, 1928…"

Let me know what you think!

~Grace