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rebecca pov
brooklyn, feb. 1945
rebecca stared at the ashes that lay on the table in front of her.
less than forty-eight hours ago, the ashes were condolence letters. one for bucky, and one for steve. her brothers.
in the last month, she got multiple letters from peggy carter and howard stark, both asking her if she was okay. peggy and her grew a friendship as peggy and steve grew closer. howard and rebecca were acquaintances, but after steve became captain america, howard became a destructive older brother figure to her.
rebecca scrunched her face up as she thought of how she let herself go.
"it's been a month, becca," she spoke to herself. "quit mopin' and get off your lazy ass. you're a nurse, a healer. do your job. you're only ruinin' buck and steve's legacy if ya just sit around like a piece of lettuce all day."
with those thoughts swirling in her head, rebecca got to work.
she pulled out a trunk from under her bed. it was labelled r.b., her initials. she grabbed some pants and trousers — ones that were more comfortable — and placed them in one corner of her trunk.
in a separate carboard box, which she placed in the trunk, she packed her medical supplies. whatever she would need for some on the road fixes.
her gaze travelled to ring that sat on a chain around her neck. along with a simple dove pendant charm bracelet — a gift from steve and bucky on her twentieth birthday — it was the only piece of jewelry she wore.
the ring was a family ring. it was handed down through multiple generations, ending up with bucky. bucky had passed it on to rebecca before he went to war.
it didn't feel right to take it off.
she lugged her trunk over to the car, and placed it in the backseat.
