2.

Brooklyn, New York

December 7th, 1941

On the day of the attack on Pearl Harbour, the two childhood friends Steve Rogers and Bucky Barnes argue, maybe for the first time ever.

They're sitting in one of Steve's art classes, where Steve is a loyal and paying student who works studiously and Bucky only goes along as company because the girls like having him to talk to and sometimes he poses as a life model for them to study. The whole class is silently painting the bowl of fruit on the table in front of them, except for Bucky and a girl called Anna giggling and whispering in the back corner, when the serenity is interrupted by a student poking their head into the room and yelling something about the Japanese, Pearl Harbour, and a war. Everyone looks at each other, confused, before squashing into the corner of the room around the teacher's desk which has a radio perched on top of it.

They all crowd around and strain their ears to listen, the broadcaster's voice monotonous. Thanks to Steve's terrible hearing, he can't hear a thing over the hushed whispers with the radio being so far away, so Bucky repeats the words to him, heavy and thick as they leave his tongue.

Pearl Harbour. Pearl Harbour has just been bombed by the Japanese, the ships sunk and the planes shot right out of the sky. They still don't know how many people have been killed and injured, and Bucky can't remember the estimated number anyway, but it's a lot. He has no doubt, instantly, that the United States will be going to war after the attack. He stares straight ahead, dumbfounded, his translation to Steve trailing off.

As soon as the broadcast ends, the class and every other class in the building goes up in uproar. Some people sit down, feeling light headed. People are crying and screaming and making patriotic comments, declaring their love and prayers for their country. Steve is silent, perched upon a stool in deep thought, a crease between his brows. Bucky watches him carefully for a moment, thinking maybe he imagined the broadcast by the way Steve is acting, when suddenly Steve leaves his spot, moving faster than Bucky has ever seen him. He's out the door before Bucky can even contemplate where he might be going. It takes him a second, but his brain eventually catches up. Bucky hurriedly gathers up Steve's abandoned art supplies, shoving them into his backpack, and then he's running along the slippery, icy pavement after Steve, who is somehow keeping a few steps ahead of him even though he's only walking.

He yells out to Steve, "Where are you going?"

Steve instantly replies, "I'm going to enlist," without even turning around to look at his friend.

Bucky can't even fathom why Steve wants to enlist in the first place, considering how the first war took Joseph Rogers from the world and ruined George Barnes. He guesses that his friend's overwhelming sense of freedom and justice is clouding his logical thoughts, which is not exactly a new occurrence. And, although he'll never admit it aloud, the prospect of the war frightens Bucky. It's only been a possibility for maybe ten minutes, but Bucky's been thinking about the possibility of having to fight for years now, and it's always been a terrifying thought. Bucky is stunned into silence. They haven't even had time to think about it, really. He doesn't understand why all this doesn't deter his friend as well.

"You haven't even given them a chance to actually declare war," Bucky tells Steve, finally catching up and pacing himself to match Steve's thunderous steps.

"I'm still going to war," Steve says stubbornly.

"The United States is going to war. Maybe," Bucky corrects, making the distinction clear.

"And we aren't a part of the United States?" Steve asks. "It's our right and our responsibility."

Bucky sighs, running a hand over his face. "Yes, it is our right. But I don't think this is our war to fight. It's got nothing to do with us. At least, it didn't until today." Steve ignores Bucky, continuing to walk with determination toward Brooklyn's permanent Army recruitment centre. "War isn't a back alley, Steve. It's bloody, and gory, and deadly," Bucky tries to reason. "Not many people come home from war, and even when they do, they're never the same. I don't even understand why you want to enlist considering what the Great War did to both our fathers."

"I'll go anyway, despite everything. This is what I need to do," Steve tells him determinedly. "You of all people should be going," Steve mumbles under his breath, thinking Bucky hadn't heard. But Bucky hears, turning an angry glare toward Steve.

"Why me of all people?"

"Because you're athletic and strong."

Bucky laughs mockingly, though he fails to see the humour. "What's that got to do with it?"

Steve blows out an angry breath. "I'd be lucky to do the hundred-metre sprint in two minutes and I want to do my bit, why shouldn't you?"

"The war ain't about how fast you can run. Whether you can run like a leopard in the jungle or whether you can't run at all doesn't matter. It's about strategy. It's about wielding weapons. It's whether you can kill or be killed."

"You don't know the half of it," Steve snaps uncharacteristically, clicking his tongue at Bucky. "You know what you're being? A coward!"

Bucky feels his blood boil, fixing a heavy glare on Steve. He isn't a coward for wanting to protect himself and his family. "There's only one reason I haven't knocked you down, Steve, and that's because I don't feel like carrying you all the way back to your apartment. Now shut it and don't open your trap about the war again!" Bucky snaps right back.

Steve sighs. "I'm sorry for calling you a coward," he says after a few minutes, having the sense to look guilty. Still, Steve refuses to back down, no matter how much he's threatened. "But doesn't it all make you angry? What they've done today, and what they've been doing over there for years?"

"Of course, it does," Bucky cries. "It makes my blood boil! I may not practise, but I feel… connected to those people over there. And I do feel a certain obligation to go and fight for my country. But–," Bucky stops and doesn't continue, his throat getting all choked up by his words."I got a lot to fight for at home, too. I've got a family, and you, and a job. I don't know if I can just drop it so quickly. Especially not just before Christmas. God, Steve. Please don't do this just before Christmas. Just wait. Have one last Christmas with our families. Then, we'll decide."

Steve looks stubborn and like he wants to either fight Bucky on the point or punch him in the face or something, but suddenly his face softens and he nods in agreement. "Okay, Buck. I'll wait."

Bucky can't even describe the feeling of relief that rushes over him like a tidal wave. For now, he tells himself.

Christmas Day rolls around worryingly quick, almost as if it knew that Steve had made a promise to wait until after it passed and had hurried itself to appear. The days grow ever colder, the nights longer, and the snow begins to fall more regularly. In turn, Steve gets sicker, his lungs unable to fight the cold weather, and he spends much of December confined to his apartment or his bed.

On Christmas Day, the Barnes family is awakened by the rambunctious laughter of the twins as they cheer about the presents Santa Clause has left them. Their excitement only escalates when they race each other out to the sickly-looking Christmas tree in the living room, where most of the presents beneath belong to them.

Isabel is delighted with her presents – a brand new copy of A Tale of Two Cities from Bucky and a simple navy-blue winter dress from her parents, which Winifred made for her by hand. Bucky himself receives a Glen Miller record from Isabel, and a new pair of slacks. Bucky and Isabel joined their money to buy a new quality dinner set for their parents to replace the chipped and broken set the family has been using since before Isabel was born, which George and Winifred are incredibly appreciative and start packing away in the cupboards immediately. In the corner of the room, Becca and Robbie argue for a while over Becca's dolls and Robbie's toy car, eventually managing to coordinate their fantasy stories in an epic tale where the car repeatedly runs the doll over, much to Winifred's chagrin.

Christmas Day passes relatively slowly. After opening their presents at an ungodly hour, they all dress in their nicest Sunday clothes and head to church. They all know Winifred doesn't believe that sort of thing, but it's also part of an act to fit in, so she follows along with her husband and children. They find Steve and Sarah standing out the front, dressed in their own Sunday-best, Steve's hair gelled to perfection without a stray hair in sight. After greeting each other and wishing a round of "Merry Christmas" they all go in together, filing down the middle aisle and passing familiar faces from the neighborhood. Sarah and Winifred lead the pack to a row, talking adamantly about how they like to cook their respective Christmas meals in preparation for dinner later that evening.

Sarah and Winifred continue their gossiping as the ceremony starts up, George sitting beside his wife looking extremely bored. Isabel sits between Bucky and Steve, their shoulders pressed together so they can fit on the shorter side pew. The sermon starts up once everyone is settled, the priest's booming Irish accent filling the church hall. After a few minutes, Becca gets up from her middle seat in boredom and situates herself on Bucky's knee so that he can quietly keep her entertained and help her fiddle with the hair of her doll, braiding it and unbraiding it continuously.

After the ceremony, the two families go their separate ways momentarily as Sarah and Steve will be rejoining the Barnes' for dinner at their apartment, which is slightly larger to host a bigger group. Generally, the families don't come together for Christmas, despite knowing each other for so many years, but the outbreak of war seems to bring everyone together for one last hoorah.

While the girls are readying the Christmas dinner, Bucky and Robbie busy themselves decorating the apartment with the little decorations they have, according to Winifred's instructions. The Barnes' mainly celebrate Christmas for George and the children, so they have a tiny Christmas tree decorated in the corner of the living room and little Santa dolls placed around, as well as five stockings hung along the fireplace, one for each of the Barnes' children and an extra for Steve. On the coffee table in the living room sits the menorah, one of the only signs in the household of the family's Jewish heritage. The candelabrum with nine branches and candles, one placed higher than the others, was lit each night by Winifred from December fifteenth to twenty-second, a candle per night, with all eight candles lit together on the final night of the holiday. It is the only reminder left of Hanukkah, sitting with melted candles that are only remaining stubs. In stark contrast, Winifred has Bucky hang some mistletoe from the lightbulb in the living room, right over the top of the menorah.

After many hours of slaving away in the kitchen, Winifred and Isabel finally have the Christmas dinner prepared, various pots and plates set out on the table or still heating in the oven. They change back into their Sunday best just on six o'clock, when there is a knock at the door. Bucky lets Steve and Sarah inside, the two boys roughhousing in the corner. Sarah brings over the vast array of vegetables she has cooked up, as well two fresh loaves of bread ready to be cut.

By six thirty, the Barnes and Rogers families are sitting around the Barnes' kitchen table, extended with another foldable table brought from the Rogers' apartment, a white table cloth only used for special occasions draped over them both. In the middle of the table is a plump cooked chicken, which none of them have any idea how Winifred obtained considering their lack of money, surrounded by various bowls of cooked vegetables, a pot of rich gravy, the loaves of bread and tall candles that give off a calm ambience. After saying grace, led by George and contributed to by Becca, the families help themselves to one of the first full meals they've had in a long while.

The record plays quietly in the corner of the living room, the sound floating into the kitchen but barely audible over the chatter of the family. The news of Pearl Harbor, however, sets a dull atmosphere over the celebration, the atmosphere thick with fear and remorse. While everyone resorts to not talk about the war, they find that every conversation has turned to it.

Outside, the sky is dark, dropping snow onto the streets and buildings below. Winifred takes her eyes off the window and breaks the silence that has fallen over the table. "So, vozlyublennaya, why don't we tell everyone the news?" Winifred asks George, taking his hand in her own.

"What news?" Bucky asks warily in between a mouthful of peas. Winifred gives him a sharp look, and he immediately clamps his mouth shut and continues chewing.

George smiles at the children, and Isabel realizes he looks more relaxed than she's seen him in years. "I received an offer for a position at an investment office a few days ago. They're starting up again at the start of the new year now that the Depression is coming to a definite end. It seems very promising. Your mother and I decided not to tell any of you until we'd made a decision. I'm officially re-employed," George informs them all, his grin widening with every syllable.

"Congratulations, George," Sarah tells Mr. Barnes, the tinge of Irish in her accent ever present.

"That's great, Dad!" Isabel tells George sincerely at the same time. A chorus of other congratulations and acknowledgments goes around the table.

"Thank you, everyone," George says sincerely.

"That's the cat's pajamas!" Becca chants, a saying she recently learned at school and uses for everything she thinks is even remotely good.

George laughs at his youngest daughter's antics. "I'll be working on Wall Street again, so I'll be away a little more during the day than I am right now, since the commute is longer. But the pay will be well worth it."

"We're very proud of you," Winifred tells George on behalf of the children, who nod in agreement. Steve nods too, smiling at Mr. Barnes when they make eye contact.

"Enough about me," George says good-naturedly. "What about you, Steve? Have you gotten many commissions lately?"

"Not really," Steve says, awkwardly pushing his peas around in the gravy on his plate. "Work's been very slow. I've been delivering papers in the morning to make a little more dough."

"Are you sure that's good for your asthma?" Winifred asks worryingly.

"It's fine, Mrs. Barnes," Steve assures. Beside Steve, Sarah rolls her eyes at her son in a way that says they've had this conversation before, and it most likely is not good for Steve's asthma. "I'm hoping another job opportunity will come through soon," Steve says vaguely, seemingly unwilling to offer any more information. Bucky widens his eyes at Steve, and Steve just smiles innocently back.

"Well," Winifred says when Steve offers no more, "until such time, we'll have to get you to do us a painting," Winifred offers, looking decidedly at an empty spot on the wall by the doorway, a nail already pressed into the plaster. "Maybe a family portrait?"

"That would be lovely," Steve agrees, already planning in his head what artwork he could produce for the Barnes'. "I'd start it now, was there not a delicious meal in front of me," Steve laughs.

"And you, ladies? How's the nursing going?" George asks his oldest daughter and their guest, who both work at the same hospital.

Isabel takes a second to swallow a mouthful of food. "Quite slow. I think a lot of the men we would usually treat for work accidents and the like have already begun to ship out to basic training." Sarah nods in agreement.

"We've had that at the docks too," Bucky pipes up. "There's a lot of positions going unaccounted for. Which only means the workload is harder and heavier for those of us remaining."

"They'll need women working in the factories and other establishments if they take too many men," George Barnes notes. "They could have used that in the First War, considering the jobs of the factory workers went unreplaced. Definitely didn't help in the Great Depression."

Everyone goes silent then, realizing the conversation has accidentally turned to one about the war once again. The only sound that breaks the silence is the sound of everyone's quiet chewing, and the low hum of the megaphone in the corner, a record spinning slowly on the stand.

Winifred turns her attention to Isabel then. "Isabel, kotyonok, do you know the Williams' son? Daniel?"

Isabel looks quite surprised by the sudden change in the conversation. "I know of him," she specifies, looking unsure. "He goes to the dance hall sometimes. Why, mama?"

"Well I was talking to his mother just the other day, I ran into her at the market. She told me that Daniel is quite interested in meeting you."

Isabel practically chokes on her bread roll, having to take a swig of wine to wash it down. "Mom, please, don't play matchmaker for me."

"I'm not, we were just talking," Winifred dismisses. "He is a very nice young boy. All I'm saying is that if he tries to dance with you, don't say no."

Isabel rolls her eyes at her mother, earning a hard glare from her father at the head of the table. On her right, Steve looks incredible uncomfortable, avoiding everyone's eyes and looking down at his now empty plate. It doesn't escape the attention of Winifred, who's brow furrows in a questioning glance toward the blonde. Sarah notices too, and seems to give Steve a pitiful glance before looking away.

Around eight o'clock, after the dishes from dinner have been cleared, Sarah and Steve make their departure, thanking the Barnes' for their hospitality and welcoming attitude. Isabel hugs Sarah Rogers goodbye, the older woman enveloping both her and Bucky in a motherly hug. She then hugs the twins who swoop in for affection, Becca planting a smooch on Sarah's cheek and making her giggle.

"See you around, Steve," Bucky tells Steve, grabbing him in a noogie that messes up his smooth blonde hairstyle.

"Not if I see you first," Steve retaliates, punching Bucky's shoulder rather roughly. They laugh at their inside joke like young school boys, until Sarah breaks them up.

"You two never grew up," she berates as she leads Steve out the door with her.

"Bye, Isabel," Steve calls quickly just as the door closes behind them.

Winifred announces bedtime for the twins straight away, even though they're rather wound up by the departure of their visitors. They unhappily march off to their rooms, mumbling something about it not being fair being young and having a curfew. They dress themselves in their sleepwear with help from Winifred and both climb into Becca's single bed, awaiting story time. When Winifred sits down with a book to read them, they stop her, asking for Bucky to read to them.

Winifred emerges quickly from the girls' bedroom. "Bucky, they would like you to read to them," she tells Bucky, handing the book to him with a playful smirk.

Bucky obediently rises from his seat on the couch next to George and takes the book. Winifred pinches his cheek lovingly as he passes, and Bucky doesn't even try to bat her away because he's learnt from experience that it doesn't work. Winifred steals Bucky's seat, snuggling into George's side affectionately. Isabel remains in the loungeroom, watching her parents with equal adoration and disgust. Bucky chuckles at Isabel's expression as he walks into the girls' room, finding the twins both lying under the quilt together, leaning against the pillows.

"I heard you wanted me and not Ma," Bucky smirks, kneeling down by the bed.

He begins to read to them, the same book they always ask for every night. Bucky doesn't know what their interest is in hearing it every night, waiting for the little train to make his way up the hill and always defying the odds. Instead of asking, he reads as asked, putting great enthusiasm into the story and doing different voices for each character. The twins love it, laughing aloud as Bucky struggles not to burst into a fit of giggles himself.

He eventually finishes the book, chuckling at Robbie, who's fallen asleep during the course of the little train's journey in the book. Bucky picks him up bridal style, the boy's arm flopping down and his mouth wide open. Bucky carries him to their room and gently puts him into bed, pulling the blanket up over Robbie's shoulders.

He returns to turn off Becca's bedside light, smiling at her tiny face and mistaking her for being asleep. She looks just as Isabel had when she'd been younger, dark hair framing her petite features and long eyelashes resting on her cheeks. He flicks off the light, plunging the room into darkness. Just as he turns to leave, Becca tugs on his sleeve, making him jump. He turns back to find her awake and sitting up, her eyes wide in the light from the hallway.

"What, darlin'?" He asks curiously, noting the sadness pulling at her bottom lip.

"What will happen if you have to go to war?" She asks rather suddenly. Her face is sweet enough to make Bucky melt. "Steve said he has a job coming up, too. Is he going to war as well?"

Bucky inches himself to sit on the bed, sighing under his breath. It's amazing how perceptive children can be. "I'm not sure, doll. But if we did go to war, we'd have to go away for a while," he says carefully. He isn't even sure how much his siblings know about what a war is.

"Belle told us that it means you would be a hero and keep us safe?" Becca says, asking for clarification.

"Yeah, doll. Belle is right. We'd be going to war to keep you guys safe. Not everyone in the world is nice, not everyone is going to treat you nice. We have to stop those people before they get too close. And I'd never, ever let anyone hurt you, you hear? Not you, or your brother, or Belle, or our parents. Not even Steve. Nothing's going to happen, ever."

"You promise?" She asks innocently.

"I promise," he murmurs. Becca nods, her face solemn as she contemplates what Bucky has told her. The child doesn't perk up immediately like he'd expected her to. "Quit pouting," he tells her smoothly, poking her bottom lip. "A pretty girl like you ain't got a face fit to look so sad."

Becca giggles at that. To make her smile reach her eyes, Bucky quickly tickles under her armpits, causing the child to squeal and giggle, tossing and turning in his arms to get away from him.

"There's that grin," Bucky smiles back, letting her go. She slumps back against the pillows, crossing her arms protectively over her chest incase Bucky tries for a second tickle match. "Now, go to sleep. I'll see you in the morning."

"Okay, Bucky. Love you," Becca tells him like it's the easiest thing in the world, letting out a yawn. Bucky smiles at her fondly, watching as Becca shifts down in the bed and closes her eyes. He leans forward and kisses her forehead, smoothing her hair out of her face.

"Love you too, kid. Merry Christmas."