17.

Brooklyn, New York City

November 5th, 1942

"I can't believe Steve, that stubborn little punk."

Isabel sighs, falling into step beside Bucky. He's swung by the hospital on his way home from the docks to walk her home at the end of her shift and so the two of them can decide on a course of action. The weather has taken a cold snap as winter prepares to descend upon the city, and the sun has long set in the sky, despite it only being just after six. Around them, everyone is dressed in thick coats, scarves and mittens, as so are Bucky and Isabel.

"So, he definitely said he doesn't want to move out?" Isabel confirms.

"Yes. He said he appreciates the offer, but he really can get by on his own. Really stuffs up our plans."

"Don't be so harsh, Buck. We have to think of the sentimental value of his apartment. It's where he's lived with Sarah for the last twenty-four years. Their whole lives have been made in that apartment. Maybe he just isn't ready to let it go yet."

Bucky contemplates this. "I see your point."

"I tried to talk him into it, Buck. The night after the funeral, after you left. I told him that I didn't think it was a good idea for him to stay considering that everything would be a trigger and he seemed to think about it. It's been a few weeks now, he's had plenty of time to weight his options."

"He isn't weighing them very well," Bucky chuckles. "Well, even so, I think we still need to do this. We need to keep the option open for him, as well as for us."

"Think about it," Isabel tells Bucky. "You go off to war and that leaves me living there along for however long you're gone. Do you really think Steve is going to want me there all alone?"

"Guess not. As soon as I got shipped out, he'll probably move in within the hour," Bucky agrees, imagining Steve freaking out over Isabel being left alone in the apartment. "But I don't think your sweetheart would much like you living along with another man, either," he points out, raising his eyebrow at Isabel. She doesn't seem to think of Danny when it comes to Steve, doesn't seem to think how he would react to her and Steve living together.

Isabel shrugs Bucky off. "Danny thinks Steve is like my brother. He thinks he doesn't have to worry."

"Is Steve not like your brother?" Bucky asks, maybe a little too hopefully.

"Of course, he is," Isabel defends. "It all depends on how Ma takes the news anyway," Isabel changes the subject. "Do we just come straight out and tell them, or butter them up a bit first?"

Bucky accepts the conversation change. He'll work on Isabel later. "Straight to the point, get it over with. We're in our twenties, we aren't teenagers. It's our decision," Bucky decides. They stop at their front door. "You ready for this?"

"Ready."

The smell of stew on the stove is strong as they walk in the front door of the family apartment, and it makes their stomachs growl. Before Isabel can even manage to shut the door behind her, Bucky's voice calls out to their parents.

"Ma? Dad? We're home!"

At the kitchen table, just in view, George waves a hand to his children without looking up from the day's newspaper. Winifred pokes her head around the part-wall blocking off the kitchen from the hallway, smiling at her children. "Oh good, dinner is almost ready."

"Where are Becca and Robbie?" Isabel asks, noticing the absence of chatter from the rambunctious twins and the lack of bear hugs as soon as they walked in the door.

"They both went to friends' houses after school. Your father is going to get them after dinner."

Isabel and Bucky exchange a look. The lack of the twins will most likely make their announcement easier. They can imagine the tantrums from Becca that are going to erupt at their departure from the household.

"Before you serve dinner we actually have something we need to discuss with you and Dad," Bucky says, leading Winifred to the table, where George has looked up from the paper curiously.

"What is it, moya lyubov'?"

"Well," Bucky says, stalling as everyone takes their seats at the table. "Belle and I have been thinking that it might be time we thought about moving out. Together of course, to make things easier and safer."

Winifred and George are silent as they stare between their two eldest children, who stare back worriedly. George fiddles with the glasses perched on his nose, and finally clears his throat. "If you're both doing this because you think you are a burden to us, you aren't. You are our children. We will support you to the best of our abilities for as long as we can, and for as long as you need."

"We know, Dad," Bucky continues, leaning across the table to take his mother's hand.

"Just because you are both in your twenties doesn't mean you are required to leave the nest. The world's a different place to what it was when your mother and I were younger. Isabel had to study for her career. And in our dating days, people courted with their parents are chaperones, and most of the time the relationships were arranged. We understand why the both of you haven't married yet, the world is changing, there's another world war-" George continues, despite those issues not having any impact on their decision.

"Dad, that isn't the reasoning at all," Bucky cuts in. "Sure, you and Ma have helped us build our lives and now we don't need the support. We have friends and contacts and stable jobs. I've been working at the docks since I was fifteen and I'm one of their most loyal employees. And Isabel's been qualified for a few years now, and she's got a permanent position at the hospital, which are hard to come by. We can afford to live on our own. There's no reason why we shouldn't have a go at independence."

Isabel speaks up then. "We know that we aren't a burden on you, and that you don't mind, but it means we will be out of the way so you can give the same support to Robbie and Becca that you gave us. Becca and Robert could share or have their own rooms, and you could have your own bedroom instead of sleeping out here. You'd have more room, and less expenses. We just think it would be easier."

"We haven't got an apartment yet. We haven't even started looking," Bucky tells them. "But we wanted you to know what we were thinking."

George and Winifred exchange glances, having a discussion with only their eyes. Both look solemn, but accepting. "What brought this up?" Winifred asks.

"Well, truthfully, it was Sarah's passing. Bucky was going to move into an apartment with Steve to help with expenses. Once we thought about it, it just felt like the right thing to do for both of us," Isabel tells them, seeing Winifred's face darken in horror at the mention of Steve living there too, her mouth opening to protest. "Steve has just his mind about joining us, but we've decided to go for it," she hurriedly adds.

"So, Steve is still residing at his family apartment?" Winifred confirms.

"Yes," Isabel says vaguely, not letting on that they're still hoping on convincing Steve to join them. This conversation has certainly shown Isabel that Winifred would not be open to Steve and Isabel living there together once Bucky leaves. She may have a do a bit of explaining when the time comes. Still, she's an adult. She can do what she likes, especially if she doesn't care for her neighbourhood reputation.

George finally nods in understanding. "You're both old enough to make your own decisions, and I'm confident your decisions will be the right ones. If you need help, you know where to find us."

"Thank you, Dad," Isabel says with a bright smile, standing and going around the table to kiss her father's cheek.

"On one condition," Winifred interrupts. At Bucky and Isabel's nod, she continues, a smirk appearing on her lips. "You have to come at least once a fortnight for dinner. And on holidays. And bring Steve with you, that boy could use a good feed."

Isabel and Bucky manage to find an apartment within a few weeks. They look at a few, but a lot of them are a little rundown, not worth the money people are asking for them. Apparently, the Great Depression is still affecting the market, even so many years after the value of the dollar increased. Bucky finds a lot of mould in one, the black fungus lurking in both bedrooms and the kitchen, a worrying amount that would be damaging to the health. Another has a leak in the roof that's caused a large water stain to cover the white roof, causing it to crack. The third they look at is just scary, the cupboards falling off their hinges in the kitchen, without running water in the skins and shower, the floorboard rotting away beneath their feet. Bucky steers them out of that one pretty quickly, and they consider themselves a little unlucky in the apartment hunt.

After a few days of searching and asking others in the neighbourhood for hints, Bucky sees a sign in a shop window in Fort Greene Park on his walk home from work one night advertising a rent vacancy for a two-bedroom apartment above the neighbourhood bookshop. On their next day off, a Tuesday, whilst everyone else is at work or school, the siblings organise a visit to the apartment with the landlady, Mrs. Turner, who shows them around and points out the apartment's features while Isabel smiles from ear to ear.

Mrs. Turner is a plump older lady with a kind smile and round glasses perched upon her nose. Her husband owns and operates the bookshop beneath them, and waved to them from the front desk as they went upstairs.

It's a moderately sized apartment, with a frame and mattress for a double bed already positioned in each bedroom. It has one bathroom with a working shower and toilet and only a little bit of mould in the shower, which Bucky is sure he can get rid of. A large, open kitchen and lounge area makes up the bulk of the floor plan. The kitchen has recently been refurbished with new counter tops and cupboard fronts, and a small four-person dining table that Mrs. Turner informs them comes with the apartment. There's plenty of room for a few couches in front of the open fireplace, and enough wall space for bookshelves so they can store the books and various knick-knacks they've collected over the years. And most importantly, there's enough room in the open area to section of another area as a third bedroom, just in case Steve decides to move in as well and doesn't want to share with Bucky.

"I think we could do something with this," Isabel says when the landlady leaves to give them some minutes to decide. She seems nonchalant, but as she takes one last look around the apartment, at the sunshine beaming into the kitchen and bedrooms through the open windows, Bucky can see the excitement on her features. "And it has a fire escape. That's always handy."

"For sitting or for escaping?" Bucky laughs.

"Both. I may need to get away from you."

Bucky hums his amused agreement, taking a walk through the kitchen and using his fingers to count of the positive aspects of the choice. "It's light, airy. The floorboards and kitchen are nice. The wallpaper's peeling a little, but we can fix that if we want to. It's got a fireplace so we won't freeze to death in winter. It's in a good, safe neighbourhood, close to my work and yours. All the amenities we could need are nearby. And most importantly, we can afford it, with or without Steve."

"So that's a yes?" Isabel asks, only barely containing her excitement and biting her lip in anticipation.

"If it's what you want? Oof-"

Isabel runs at Bucky, wrapping her arms around his shoulders. "Yes! Bucky, it's beautiful!"

"Well then, I think that's a yes," Bucky chuckles, patting his sister on the back.

Mrs. Turner, who insists that they call her Maureen, is all too happy to let them start renting immediately since the apartment has been empty and collecting dust the last few months, and the longer its empty, the longer her and her husband aren't making any rent. In the building's small office just off from the lobby, Bucky and Isabel dutifully fill out the paperwork and sign their names on the dotted lines of their rent contract. Maureen hands them two sets of keys, warns them not to lose them, and tells them the rent is due at the start of each month before leaving them be in their new apartment, the siblings smiling at each other in excitement and pride.

By late afternoon that day, the siblings manage to return to their childhood apartment and retrieve their belongings. They lug everything to their new apartment by hopping on a passing trolley car. It would have been nice to borrow the car, but George took it to work. They both struggle to drag full suitcases of their belongings each as well as carry the shopping bags that contain the various items they've purchased in the weeks after making their decision, such as pots, plates, cutlery, towels and bedding, both new and second-hand. It takes a few trips to get everything to the new apartment. They still have some furniture to buy, but they'll get it delivered.

The bus ride from Stuyvesant to Fort Greene Park is short, which they are grateful for as their mother would not be happy if the commute for a coffee date was much longer. Dragging the suitcases up the stairs proves more challenging than it was to get them down, but the two manage, with Bucky admittedly doing most of the heavy lifting. They leave the shopping bags in the kitchen area and take their own suitcases into their respective rooms. Bucky finishes decorating much faster than Isabel, having thrown everything in random places and hastily putting the sheets on his new bed. Isabel takes her time putting things in their respective positions and hanging her dresses in the built-in closet. There's a chest of drawers in the corner that she loads up with blouses, skirts and jumpers. Finally, she makes her bed, pulling the sheets tight like she does when making hospital beds, and fluffing her pillows.

Satisfied, she enters the kitchen, where Bucky is busying himself finding spots for their kitchen utensils in the cupboards and drawers.

"I hope you aren't just putting anything anywhere like you do in your bedroom," she warns, going to a plastic bag and pulling out the cutlery set.

"Of course not," Bucky says. "Pots are there, pans are next door, the cups and mugs are up here, and the plates and bowls are stowed in here." Bucky shows Isabel all of the utensils in their hidey holes, impressed with his organisational skills.

"Good," Isabel commends.

They work to put everything away, the afternoon wearing away into night as they fill the time with excited chatter and the bustle of their possessions. Eventually they pack everything away in its new home, the kitchen sparkling clean and their bedrooms tidied.

"Alright, invite Steve over," Bucky says. "We're going to have a party."

"With three people? And hardly any furniture?" Isabel asks, looking around at their bare living room. They really need to buy a couch.

"Yep. It's only our first day, he isn't going to expect us to have everything. Do you have an aversion to sitting on the floor?"

"Apparently not," Isabel says, but she calls Steve anyway with the phone on the wall in the kitchen, giving him the address and telling him to bring a bottle with him.

Steve arrives thirty minutes later at their new address, which is a few blocks the other side of his apartment from their parents'. He walks inside, a bottle of wine under his arm and a pack over his shoulder, and looks around admiringly at their humble new abode.

"It's great," Steve says sincerely, putting the wine down carefully on the kitchen bench. "So big and airy."

"I love it," Isabel says, getting three flute glasses out of the overhead cupboard.

Steve then pulls his camera out of his pack. "I thought we could take some photos to remember the day," he says.

"Oh, let me just change into something nicer," Isabel says, hurrying into her room and closing the door behind her. They hear her rustling around in her wardrobe, hear material hitting the bed. She's obviously taking her pick from multiple outfits.

"We don't even have any furniture," Bucky notes, standing in the middle of the open room.

Steve waves him off, fiddling with the camera's functions. "It makes the room look bigger, like you bought a massive apartment. Makes you look rich."

"That's the goal," Bucky agrees, just as Isabel emerges again, wearing a pale blue strapless dress that flares out to below the knees in a mesh material. Her hair is styled over one shoulder, waves framing her face and red lipstick making her lips pop. Steve's never seen that dress before - it must be new - and he gulps at the sight of her.

"Alright, stand together," Steve tells them in a slightly strangled voice, waiting as Bucky and Isabel shuffle closer to each other. "Smile." The camera takes its time, but it eventually snaps the image, now waiting on the roll of film for Steve to have it developed.

They mess around a while with the camera, taking pictures of each other by the fireplace and in their bedrooms, acting like teenagers again. Steve snaps an image of Isabel he thinks may be useful in an upcoming project, or maybe just for him to keep as a memento, as weird as that is. She stands against the white wallpaper, her head thrown back in uncensored laughter at something Bucky says, one hand on her hip. She looks utterly graceful and beautiful and it makes Steve's heart want to burst with pride. Danny is a lucky man.

Bucky runs down to the corner shop later to pick up some food since they haven't been grocery shopping as yet. The options are fairly limited so late on a Tuesday night in winter. He returns with bread, meat and cheese from the delicatessen and starts on making sandwiches in the kitchen whilst Isabel attempts to show Steve the man's steps to the Jitterbug dance, doing it side-by side, which really doesn't go well. Steve is as uncoordinated as a baby giraffe, stumbling ungracefully through the steps, and they spend more time laughing at each other than actually dancing. Bucky watches them with a smile, laughing when Steve manages to trip over his own feet.

"Two left feet, hey Stevie," he says with a laugh as Steve picks himself up off the floor, brushing off his pants, his cheeks red with embarrassment.

"And you wonder why I don't dance in public," he mumbles to Isabel, who nods in agreement.

They eat their first, rather pathetic dinner at the dining room table, the only piece of furniture in this part of the apartment. After cleaning up the dishes, Bucky disappears into his room momentarily, emerging again with a chess board, the same one Steve and Bucky have duelled over for years trying to best each other. He sits on the ground in the empty living room and sets up the board, Steve hurrying down to join him, the two friends sitting cross-legged like they're children in kindergarten again.

"Oh, it's on," Bucky says when Steve joins him, pushing the pile of white pawns toward Steve.

"This is your idea of a housewarming party?" Isabel asks, laughing as the boys set up their pawns on the board.

"Chess is our go to game, Is," Steve tells her.

"We're expanding the logical, tactical part of our minds," Bucky adds.

Isabel shakes her head at them, chuckling. "Bucky Barnes, life of the party, versing his friend in a game of chess at a housewarming party that has a total of three people in attendance. That has to be newsworthy. What would the women of New York think to find out the best catch in the lake is actually a grandfather in disguise?"

"I'm growing older, Is. I'm flying past the years of partying and drinking too much. Next year, I'll be joining a book club and attending mother's meetings."

Isabel laughs at her brother, carefully pouring out three chutes of white wine. She carries them carefully, allowing Steve and Bucky to take their flutes from her full hands. "Drink your wines boys. Lets get drunk and celebrate with a game of chess."

Bucky cheers in response to Isabel giving in to his plan, downing half of his chute in one gulp. Steve sips his, a little more responsibly, actually tasting the liquid. Still holding her own glass, Isabel manages to get out Bucky's radio with one hand and sets it up in the corner, tuning the knobs until the sounds flicker to life and music fills the apartment. She sits back down cross-legged on one side of the board, preparing to watch the ever-continuing chess battle.

Bucky and Steve make a few moves each, and Bucky knocks one of Steve's pawns off the board.

"Steve, remember that time I challenged you to a game of chess in Prospect Park were they have all those boards set up? I beat you, absolutely wiped the floor with you, and you cried in front of all those people who were watching our game," Bucky asks, trying to rile Steve up.

"We were ten!" Steve protests.

"You still cried. You are a sore, sore loser," Bucky says, shaking his head. "Prepare to be one again."

"Nah uh, I'm going to win this one," Steve argues, getting a determined glare on his features as he makes another move, flicking one of Bucky's pawns off the board with his own.

They banter for ages, riling each other up and not actually taking any more turns, making Isabel shake her head at them. "You better make a move, Bucky, or we're going to be here literally all night," she warns her brother.

Bucky quickly settles down, concentrating on the game. He gets that brooding face Steve was talking about, stroking his chin as he considers his next moves. It takes Bucky a good minute to make a move, whilst Steve chooses after only a few seconds of deliberation, his eyes flicking once over the board before he moves a pawn to a new square. Isabel has no idea how he does it, how he can think so tactically in such a short amount of time. Neither does Bucky, apparently, because Bucky gets a little grumpy about it, the way he has since they were kids.

"I like being here with you guys," Steve admits quietly after a good hour of playing chess, a sheepish smile on his face.

"You could be with us all the time if you moved in, stupid. Every day is a party in a Barnes' household," Bucky points out in his typical blunt fashion.

"I realise that, jerk," Steve shoots back. "I was thinking that I just might do that."

"Hey!" Bucky cheers, leaning over to clap Steve's shoulder. "He finally comes to his senses!"

"Lay off, Bucky," Isabel tells her brother. "You know we'd love to have you. And you won't just be a house guest. It'll be your home too," Isabel makes sure Steve knows.

Steve smiles at her fondly, seemingly having made his mind up. Truthfully, he feels better and more at ease as soon as he makes that decision. His mother's apartment has felt cold and empty since she left, and he finds himself not wanting to be there often, preferring to go for walks around the neighbourhood. He knows he can't live in a house forever when he can't stand to be there.

"To new beginnings," Bucky toasts, raising his glass.

"To new beginnings," Steve and Isabel chant, all three glasses clinking together in the middle before they all take a long swig. Chess is a game best played tipsy.

A/N: So Isabel, Bucky and Steve have finally made the move. I initially wanted to make this chapter one of the first in the story, but that would have meant writing Sarah out of the story before I had really established the relationship between the characters and I felt it didn't work. I didn't want to put that kind of heartbreak in so soon before everyone was really introduced. Canonically if you follow the MCU timeline, these events are about a year too late, but what's a little change here and there? Not every part of this story will be canon-compliant considering I plan on making it my own.

For those interested, I used a website called 1940snewyork to pick the suburbs for the characters to live in. It is super interesting if you'd like to know what Brooklyn of the 1940s looked like, as it shows the current neighbourhoods compared to those of the 1940s, as well as having pictures of the buildings and streets. It gives a great insight into what the borough looked like.

I chose Fort Greene Park for Isabel and Bucky to move to as it is close to the Brooklyn Navy Yards (the docks) where Bucky would have worked. The Navy Yard, or dockyards, were located in the 1940s suburb of Brooklyn Heights, which now covers the areas we know as Boerum Hill, Brooklyn Heights, Downtown, Dumbo, Fulton Ferry, Navy Yard and Vinegar Hill. It's clear that since the 1940s, each suburb has been broken down into further neighbourhoods with the changing landscape of the population, and immigration had a lot to do with this.

I decided upon Stuyvesant for the Barnes' family apartment as at the time it was a mostly residential district with many foreign-born occupants. Of its population of 149,647 people, 72,034 were native white (this would be George Barnes and the Barnes children), and 28,889 were foreign-born white (this would be Winifred), so it seemed like a relevant suburb for the family. Russian Jews (Winifred) and Italians led the list for foreign-born whites. The rentals in this area were quite cheap, and the majority of homes were two or three-bedroom, with very few over $40 a month, an affordable price for struggling families amidst a Great Depression. If you want to learn more, I strongly recommend checking out that website. It's really interesting :)