Disclaimer: I do not own anything; everything belongs to its rightful owners

"If you cannot get rid of the family skeleton, you may as well make it dance." George Bernard Shaw, Immaturity

Chapter Four - It's A Family Affair

Daisy-Jane had left for home the next day, obviously eager to return to familiar settings, giving Clara a rushed goodbye, and a promise to stay in contact. She hadn't mention anything about the army nursing, but Clara had the sneaking suspicion that she had immediately spilled her guts to their mother. Seeing that, a few days after Daisy's visit, Matilda called Clara, begging for her daughter to come home. The pleading worked, as Clara was now travelling towards her childhood home. Her stomach rumbled as the taxi plotted along, and she wished that she had eaten the food that Bucky's mother had dropped off the day before when she visited. But she had been too nervous to think about stomaching even the tiniest piece of toast.

Visits home had never brought much joy to Clara in the years she had spent in Brooklyn. It was not so much her immediate family, she loved her parents and siblings quite dearly, but rather, it was her grandmother and aunt's presence that she quite loathed. Neither of them were very pleasant women, at least, not to Clara. She had often wondered how Matilda turned out to be so kind, with a mother like Catherine. Everyone attested this to her father's influence; even Matilda herself admitted that he mother could be quite horrible.

Clara stared out the windows, watching the scenery fly by her; it was familiar, and yet unfamiliar at the same time. Like she was remembering a dream, a past life that was not really hers, a long forgotten memory. As the car pulled into the driveway, Clara felt like butterflies had been let loose in her stomach, and were now bouncing around inside of her. The taxi driver opened the door for her, and she smiled graciously at him, before he moved to get her bag out of the back of the car. She had wanted to drive, but her mother had insisted that she take a taxi. She suspected that this was to deprive her of means of escape.

The driver handed Clara her bag, her eye moving up to gaze at the sight of her childhood home. It was a large and grandeur house, having belonged to Matilda's father's family, it would have been inherited by the eldest male, but the lack of a son meant that Matilda had inherited the house. It was a two-storey, Victorian style house that had been built in the last century, and passed down through the family. Everything was in impeccable condition, from the light paint to the spotless windows. Even the flowerbeds looked freshly pruned. Clara knew that this attention to detail was not for her. The only person that was ever this particular about the orderliness of the house, was Catherine.

Clara was pulled from her observations, when her mother burst out of the front door, and hurried towards her eldest daughter. Matilda was a short woman, a few inches shorter then Clara, closer in height to Daisy, who had slightly rounded over the years, but was by no means overweight. She had tanned skin, with mousy brown hair that was curled today, but normally had a natural frizz to it. She had a kind heart shaped face that Daisy had inherited, large light brown eyes, and a button nose.

Matilda immediately pulled Clara into a hug, beaming down at her, as if she had not seen her in years. "Oh Clara" she exclaimed, "It's wonderful to see you"

"You too" said Clara, smiling back up at her mother,

"Here, take your bag inside, I'll pay for the taxi" said her mother, holding up her hand when Clara began to protest, "Go inside, I readied your room for you"

Clara nodded to her mother, pulling her back with her towards the house. She walked through the open door, and up the stairs, walking a little bit further down the hallways, until she stopped in front of her room. Clara slowly reached up for the doorknob, turning it, and opening the door to her room.

Her bedroom had not been changed since she moved to Brooklyn; the quilt her aunt Sadie had made her still lay on her double bed, the bookshelf was still full of worn books that her father had given her, her desk was once scattered with various sketches (but Clara had put them away the last time she was there), now was bare.

She dropped her bag onto the bed, pulling out the letter from Bucky that had arrived this morning, and laying it down on the desk. She wanted to wait to read it, until later tonight, after she had gotten used to being back home. She moved over to the bookshelf, running her fingers along the binds, pulling out her copy of Pride and Prejudice; it was given to her by her second cousin, Vislet, as a birthday present many years ago. The pages were worn, and there was even a tea stain on one of the pages. Daisy had always thought Bucky to be quite similar to Mr. Darcy (though, she had never read the book herself). She heard her mother calling her down, and sighing, she slipped the book back into it's original place, giving the room one last glance, before heading back downstairs.

Clara walked towards the stairs, and was greeted with the sight of her father in the foyer. Edward was a tall man, especially in comparison to his wife, lean, if not a bit gangly, with skin only slightly darker then Clara's. His dark black hair was neatly combed to the side; his inviting eyes were a warm chocolate brown, which lit up at the sight of his daughter.

"Daddy" said Clara, speeding down the stairs and running into Edward's open arms

"Oh, Clara, it's good to see you again" he said, tightly returning her hug, "How long have you been here?"

"Just got here"

"Same" said Edward, "Your grandmother insisted that I take her and Daisy to the markets, and you know how persistent she can be"

Clara's mood instantly plummeted at the confirmation of her grandmother's presence. Her father gave her a sympathetic smile, love was not lost between the two of them either.

"Come on" he said, stepping towards the living room, "If we don't go, she'll hunt us down"

Clara inwardly groaned as she followed Edward into the living, a fake smile spreading on her face as her grandmother came into view. Catherine turned to her granddaughter, her eyes locking onto her, like a predator with its prey. Clara looked very similar to her granddaughter, like an older version. Her pale skin, had wrinkled, but appeared more youthful then many her age. Her hair, a mix strawberry blonde strands with flecks of grey, was pinned up on her head. Her eyes were a stony grey, that pierced your very soul. Her face was pulled into a stern frown, like there was a bad smell in the air.

"Clara, how are you my dear?" Asked Catherine, but she did not smile,

"Good" she replied curtly, "You?"

"I am quite good" said Catherine, "Glad to be visiting my family"

"As am I" she said

"Really, that's not what I heard" said Catherine, and Clara prepared herself for a scolding, "I heard, that Matilda had to beg for you to come home. I have to say, I do not understand your persistence to stay in the city, especially with your husband gone. I, myself, would've returned home to my family"

Clara stopped herself from snapping at her grandmother how she didn't need her family, knowing that inciting a row with her grandmother never ended well. Instead, she nodded obediently, pretending to take on her grandmother's advice. Catherine did not look convinced, but did not push the subject, turning her attention to her favoured granddaughter. Clara had always been glad that Daisy was the receiving of Catherine's attention, but couldn't help being perturbed by her grandmother's lack of affection. Though, she supposed, you couldn't miss something you never had. And Catherine had always regarded Clara to be an utter disappointment.

"That's preposterous, a fanciful tale" said Catherine, Clara only just tuning in to what they were saying, "Super soldiers, the only thing I've ever heard as impossible as that, were my mother's stories of blue angels from the Heavens"

"I always liked those stories" said Matilda, "Aunty Izzy used to tell me them all the time. I told you two them as bedtime stories" she said, nodding towards Clara and Daisy

Catherind rolled her eyes at the mention of her sister, but despite this, Clara had seen the affection Catherine showed her younger sister. Isaline was one of the few people that Catherine was kind to. But Catherine was a realistic person, fairy tales and strange stories were of no interest to her.

"A bunch of nonsense, I can assure you"

"I don't know, Arthur told me that his father said it was true" said Daisy, "And he's friends with some very powerful men"

"What are they talking about?" Clara whispered to her father

"Captain America" said Edward, handing her the newspaper

Clara frowned at him, as she took the newspaper, her eyes moving to the front cover. And there, was a picture on the front, of a man that she recognised very well. Only, it wasn't him, or at least, not what he looked like when she had last seen him. It was Steve Rogers, but a new Steve Rogers. One that was tall, and muscular, and the complete opposite of what he had been. Clara blinked a few times, as if she expected the picture to change. It didn't, of course.

"What is it?" Asked Edward

"I know him" said Clara, pointing at the picture, "At least, I think I do"

"How could you possibly know him?" Asked Catherine, who has evidently been listening to their conversation

"He's Steve, you know, Bucky's best friend" she explained, but they all remained puzzled, "Best man at my wedding"

"Oh, the scrawny one?" Asked Daisy

"Well, he's not scrawny anymore" said Edward, "Guess it's not nonsense after all"

Catherine narrowed her eyes at her son-in-law, pursuing her lips, but saying nothing.

Clara felt slightly ashamed that she hadn't spoken to Steve, she had just been so caught up in herself, she had completely forgotten about him. She couldn't believe that she hadn't even considered Steve. Not once.

"Did you know about this?" Catherine asked her

"No, I haven't spoken to Steve in awhile" said Clara

Catherine muttered something under her breath in French, and Clara caugh the words incompétent and inutile, meaning incompetent and useless. Matilda had not heard her mother, Daisy had, and her face was frowning in concentration as she struggled to translate her grandmother's words. Clara was the only one of her siblings that has excelled at French. It was the only thing disappointed Catherine about Daisy and Nate. After all, it had been Catherine's idea that Matilda teach them. Catherine had taught both Matilda and Audrey as children, having herself learnt from her French mother. Danique had met Catherine's father when he was visiting France, and they were married soon after, her moving to America with him. Danique had died when her children were barely teenagers, giving birth to a stillborn son. Clara had only recently learned this, Catherine rarely spoke about her parents, and when she did, it was not in great lengths or details.

Edward placed a comforting hand on her shoulder, he had not heard Catherine, and even if he had he wouldn't have understood. Daisy and Nate had inherited their fathers lack of talent with languages. He had, however, picked up on a few words and phrases from his wife. Clara was the only one that Matilda could converse in French with, this communication a source of minor jealousy and annoyance for Daisy.

"What's he doing now?" Edward asked, trying to draw Clara's attention away from Catherine

"Promotional tours" said Clara, her eyes scanning the article, "Seems to be quite the hit"

Both Clara and Edward looked up to Catherine, waiting for a comment to be made, but she said nothing. Instead, it was Daisy who spoke, having given up on figuring out the French that Catherine had spoke.

"What's he promoting?"

"Bonds" shrugged Clara, "Don't know how they convinced him to do it, he was always quite eager to fight overseas"

"Who would be eager to fight overseas?" Asked Daisy

Matilda gasped, both her and her husband immediately scolding their daughter, but it was Catherine's reaction that shocked Clara too much to properly process what Daisy had said. Catherine was glaring at Daisy, her look so fierce, that Clara wouldn't be surprised if she started growling.

"Oh, Clara, I'm so sorry" she said, realisation spreading over both their faces, "I didn't mean it like that, you know I wouldn't say anything against Bucky, I'm sure he had his reasons"

"I know...I know" muttered Clara, her eyes moving down to her feet, "Uh...e-excuse me"

Clara quickly got to her feet, running up the stairs and into her room, locking the door behind her. She collapsed down against her bed, pulling her knees to her chest, but no tears would come. Her sadness had been replaced by anger. Anger at Bucky for leaving her. Anger at herself for letting him. Angry at the whole world for the war that had torn her husband away from her.

Clara grabbed the letter from the desk, tearing it open. She needed to read Bucky's words, to hear his voice playing in her head.

Dear Clara,

I miss you too, training is alright, but sleeping in a bunk can't compare to sleeping next to you. I wish the war would end now so I could come home to you. I hope you're doing okay, don't miss me too much, I'll be back before you know it. I know that you'll still worry anyway though. I'd tell you to stay safe, but I know that you'll just do whatever you want anyway. Besides, you were always the cautious one, I've never had to worry about you.

Love, Bucky

Despite his short message, it was enough for Clara. Just reading his words, made her feel like he was there with her, and that was all she needed. She could survive this time without him.

There was a big hint in there about future events, that tie in with the marvel universe. Hope you can figure it out. The French was curtesy of Google translate, so don't hold me to its credibility. If anyone does know French and can see any problems, please tell me. Also, I probably won't be updating anytime soon as I am going on holidays, but I promise an update when I come back. Next chapter you'll meet Clara's aunt.